Licorice and Chocolate Waffles
by SmilingOnTheInside
Summary: A lively young Belgian is ready to expand her little club called the "European Union" and she's looking for new recruits. With her heart set on a certain Nordic, will she be able to convince him? Will she be able to hold Europe together? Or will it all blow up in her face? Rated T for language, suggestive themes and the occasional Brit.
1. Paper Wings

**Author's Note:** This is my first fanfiction on this site, but PLEASE be brutal. We're all here to improve, aren't we? It's an APH pairing fic, between Iceland and Belgium. Yes, I know the pairing seems a little random, but I got the idea from my history teacher. He said "The only sane European countries are Iceland and Belgium!" So in a way, he inspired me to ship two countries that appear to be sane but are really not. (Read either's histories, they're tearjerkers. Especially Belgium's.) But I talk too much. Without further ado, here's the story:

* * *

On a seemingly average autumn day in London, a World Meeting was about to commence. It was becoming routine now to let someone else host every week, that way there wouldn't be any debates over favoritism. Still, that did little to ease the tension between the countries that simply couldn't afford to host, so they often just hosted them in London or Geneva by default. This time, the reunion had to be postponed for a while, since a lot had trouble even getting there. Finally, England just decided to mail them maps to the building. Then he realized they didn't know that people drove on the left side in the United Kingdom, causing a traffic jam. Finally, he paid some people to go get them, expecting no further difficulties. Things were never that easy for England.

Somehow, Austria STILL managed to get lost, so some nations decided to form small groups and meet there. Luckily, no further altercations occurred, and everyone managed to get there in one piece.

Once there, they all gathered around the table and waited for the others. Some, like Spain and Portugal, hung around the corner and drank some coffee. Others, such as the Nordics, had already organized their things and sat down in their assigned seats. In the back, some nations were talking and fighting amongst themselves while waiting for the meeting to commence. Some were even already having heated debates over the most important of things, such as what's REALLY in hot dogs and the meaning of little things, like freedom or democracy. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking when they saw England opening his briefcase. He had a stoic expression on his face, and a gleam of determination in his eyes. It was quite the odd combination, but a necessary one if he expected the other nations to give him their full attention. To be honest, he considered even kindergarteners to be more attentive.

"Alright, we're today we are going to discuss some important matters concerning the economical problems most of us are facing. I expect silence while I explain these matters." England said in a calm tone as he stood up and started writing on the chalkboard. While his back was turned, everyone else took advantage of the opportunity and started talking again.

Near him, Belgium sat impatiently, waiting for the perfect moment to arrive. She had been planning this for a while, but she When she saw England turned around, she knew it was the perfect chance to talk to Iceland about her offer.

"Hey, hey! Pssst." She whispered to him. He was sitting a couple of seats away from her, so she had to be a bit louder. "PSSST!" She had to be loud, with all the conversations occurring at the same time, her voice seemed to get lost in the room.

He looked around, expecting it to have come from Denmark, but he looked to be knocked out cold. "What?" He asked snappily before he spotted the source.

"It's me! Belgium. I have something to ask you." She said without hushing her voice to speak to him. Before he could answer back, they were interrupted by England's angry shouting.

"WOULD YOU TWO OVER THERE STOP TALKING! CAN YOU AT LEAST STAY QUIET WHILE I SPEAK!" The Brit screamed at the top of his lungs at them. "DOES ANYONE IN THIS ROOM KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD SILENCE!"

Belgium made a mocking face, before opening the book in front of her and ripping off a page. After taking Greece's pen, she started frantically writing something on it. When she finished, she made a little paper airplane and sent it to him. Iceland sighed and opened the note. In a small and orderly lettering it read:

"Hey, wanna join my club?"

Iceland sighed and grabbed Finland's pencil. Belgium watched him closely as he wrote his answer. Once he finished, he sent the airplane back. Belgium opened the note with a ecstatic smile across her face, before realizing what he wrote back. A short and succinct "no" was the only thing written under her question. Making a disillusioned expression, she wrote him something else and sent it to him. Iceland made an exasperated grunt as he read her note.

"You don't even know what it's about."

He looked at her directly from across the table and narrowed his eyes. She smiled at him and waved, before gesturing towards another paper plane that fell near the nation next to him.

"Wanna join the European Union?" The note read. At the bottom, it had a bit torn out.

He took the note and scribbled over her lettering with a red pen he took from Denmark's hand. Once finished, he held up the paper. "No thanks." He then got hit in the face with another paper plane and sighed. It was from her again, and now it even had a little doodle of a kitten drawn.

"Please? :3" It said in small and tidy writing, it was obvious the piece came from the other paper.

Throwing away the paper, he looked at her directly and mouthed a firm no.

Belgium pouted and threw away her paper too. "Aww, why not?" She asked before England slammed his papers and suitcase on the table and yelled at everyone in the reunion.

"GODDAMN IT, IS ANYONE PAYING ANY BLOODY ATTENTION AT ALL TO WHAT I AM SAYING!" He screamed, possibly straining his throat.

Everyone in the room stopped suddenly, and stared for about five seconds, before returning to what they were doing, now even louder. England got red with anger, before calming down and sitting back in his seat. He banged his face on the table and started cursing in a low tone. It irked him when he had to host the reunions. He would spend the entire weekend planning his case, then everyone would just ignore him. After finishing, he stood up again and sighed.

"You know, what? Everyone can leave now, I give up…" He told everyone before taking his things and leaving.

Some of the others followed suit, while others lingered around and talked. Iceland, on the other hand, decided to just leave and head outside. Belgium followed him quickly, dashing after him as he made his way out to the nearby park.

* * *

A very special thanks to Leeky. Honestly, if it wasn't for you I would have never posted this. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Don't worry, guys. I'll try not to add a lot of Author's Notes in the future. Expect the next two chapters to be far more long.


	2. Don't Ask Me

Once outside, Iceland sighed in relief. He had never been a fan of reunions, he always ended up wasting his time and money on something that wasn't worth it. Still, London was a pretty city, he could try sightseeing. Then again, he'd probably get lost, London was larger than Reykjavik by far. Hopefully he could find something to eat nearby. He looked around him, it seemed most of the businesses were political ones…but there were a couple of "scone stands". While he thought about what the hell where scone stands, he approached the stand and stared at the drinks. They didn't LOOK bad. Maybe he could drink something as well.

"What are you selling?" He asked the burly man who was selling them. The smell was horrid, but he didn't know if it was coming from the man or the food. He tried to force a friendly smile, but the man kept his severe expression.

The man eyed him from top to bottom and scoffed. "Ey? You're not from these parts, are ya?" He said in such a thick accent that it was barely understandable.

"No, I'm from Iceland…" He answered in a cautious tone; hoping the man wouldn't react negatively. He looked at the food, it was mostly just some average looking bread. The rest of it seemed burned. Well, at least it looked burned. It could also be moss. Or something along those lines.

"Oh, the place that stole all our good cod? Well, let me tell you something you pain the arse. We Brits took over the entire world, and if we want to we can invade your stupid country as if it were nothing." He said in a voice that was almost like sandpaper, probably from years of smoking.

Suddenly, Belgium caught up to Iceland and ran up to him. Belgium stood next to Iceland and smiled. "Yeah, well, the leader of the EU won't let England put a finger on Iceland!" She shouted at the man. "Now, give this man some food, or else we'll take our money elsewhere!"

The man had himself a hearty laugh then grinned, showing his disgusting missing teeth and making Belgium back away a few steps. "I have the right to refuse service." Then he turned to Iceland, and frowned. "Letting your lady fight your battles? You're even less of a man than I thought. " He said before grunting in his face.

Belgium interjected again, now fiercer. "Well, you know what? There's better places in London!" She shouted proudly as she dragged Iceland with her.

"Belgium, let my arm go." Iceland protested as he shook her off and walked into the park. "That was humiliating!" He said in a low and angry breath. "And I don't want to be in your stupid club!"

Belgium pouted and ran behind him. "But…Iceland, you have to join!" She cried in a shrill voice.

Iceland took a deep breath and tried his best not to lose his composure. "I don't want to, Belgium." He answered in a stoic voice.

"But…All your friends will be there!" She pleaded.

This made him laugh a bit. He turned around face her and made a fake smile. "Friends? What friends do you think I have, Belgium?" He said in a fake cheerful tone.

Belgium looked at him nervously and struggled to find an answer. "You know…Denmark, Sweden, Finland …"

He then sneered and turned back into the direction he was facing before. "Yes, because they are the BEST of friends with me, right?" He grumbled sarcastically.

"I just assumed…" She answered in a lower tone, not wanting to anger him more. "…that since you're always with them…you must at least be friends…"

"Well, you assumed wrong." He said in a stoic voice as he took a step forward to walk away.

Belgium followed him, and grabbed his shoulder before pleading again. "But still, we all really want you to join the European Union!"

"Who is 'we'? He asked accusingly as he turned around to face her.

This question made Belgium extremely nervous. She didn't know what to answer, so she just spoke in a low voice and stared at the ground. "Um…Me...Err…Germany, England…"

"England hates me." Iceland replied in a harsh tone.

Belgium smiled nervously and tried to make England look better. "No he doesn't! He just has trouble expressing his love for people! He's friends with everyone!" She said in a feeble attempt to stop him.

Iceland rolled his eyes and laughed. "Is that why he keeps saying he wishes I just die so he could take all the cod?"

"Oh c'mon, Iceland…It's not that horrible…He's says those things about everyone! Besides, the process is pretty easy, I bet you'd have an easier time getting in than Turkey or Russia." She answered, trying to make everything sound less…problematic .

This seemed to annoy Iceland, causing him to grumble to himself. "Easy? I wasn't worried about the process being hard, I was worried about other things."

"What about your people?" Belgium asked with a hopeful smile.

He glared at her, then sighed. "They're against it too, and I want to respect their opinions."

"But…you already joined NATO, why weren't your people against that?" She questioned with a confused expression.

"Some were." He replied sadly before walking away…yet again. Belgium was starting to think this was going to become his thing.

She grabbed his shoulder yet again, now Iceland was starting to believe it was HER thing. "No! Come back!"

Frustrated, he only looked at her for a moment before he felt the need to eat something increase. "Why should I?"

She tried to search for the correct answer, and looked around frantically for something to say. "Please, just give me one week, and I'll find a way to talk you into it." She begged.

"I don't want to be talked into anything." He replied in a somewhat slurred manner, before his stomach grumbled.

The somewhat serious moment got interrupted, and she couldn't help finding it adorable. A wide cat-like smile appeared across her face, and let out a small giggle."…Not even if I buy you some food?" She sang playfully.

He held on to his stomach and stared at her. "Are you trying to get me into the European Union, or ask me out?" He said with a calm voice, trying to keep his stomach from growling again.

"Depends, is that a yes?" She laughed.

He shook his head and looked away. "It's a resound no." His stomach pretty much didn't want to cooperate, and kept making growling noises as he tried to look serious.

She gave him a lively look, then pouted. "Please? Denmark said you have a soft spot for sweets~!" She sang chirpily as she approached him.

"Yeah, Denmark's an idiot." He said, trying to sound serious.

"So you DO like sweets?" She asked as an idea popped up in her mind and she clung unto his arm.

"A bit, now let go of my arm!" He shouted as he tried to push her away.

"Not until you give me an answer!" She shouted back, now clinging even tighter unto to his arm.

"Stop acting like an idiot! Let go!" He yelled as he tried to get away before noticing she was enforcing her grip even more.

She was about to scream a no, but Iceland's pulling knocked her off balance and she pulled him down with her. A loud thump was heard, along with a shriek from her part. Now on the ground, she lay below him, and smiled.

Once he realized what just happened, Iceland panicked. His cheeks became red as he desperately tried to figure out what to say. "Sorry for that."

"You owe me." Belgium teased as she got closer to his face.

"I don't owe you any-" He started to say before he noticed she was in his face. "You're making me very uncomfortable."

"Well...how does…THIS" She growled as she pulled him down and she put herself on top. "Make you feel?" She finished with a her cat smile.

"If I do go to eat with you…will you please get off of me?" He begged.

She felt like tormenting him a bit, so she just stayed there for a while before grinning. "Maaaaaaybe. You're just so warm!" She teased.

"Yeah, I know." He replied as he got redder. "But honestly, get off. People are starting to stare."

"Alright, alright." She sighed as she got off and offered her hand to help him up.

He glared at her, then got up by himself. "I can get up on my own, thank you." He commented while he dusted off his clothing.

"You're so stubborn!" She shouted happily before taking his arm and making her way through the busy streets.

"Says the woman who has been on my neck for the past couple of days trying to get me to join her stupid organization." He snarked.

"I am trying to prevent a World War III. I believe you still remember World War II?" She said in a now serious tone. He clammed up suddenly, and looked away. "Well, we might not make it out of a third one, Iceland." She added before Iceland changed the subject.

"Where's the bakery, anyway?" He asked in a desperate attempt to talk about something else.

Regaining her cheerful tone, she looked at him and smiled. "It's right down this street. We'll be there soon." She laughed.


	3. Figure It Out

**Author's Note: **Oops, seems my previous AN didn't go through. I meant to write that this story will update every two days from this day forward. It's Tuesday, so it updates on Friday. Two full days without one, then it updates! Got it? Good. I'd like to thank all the nice people who subscribed and added this story to their favorites. I cannot thank you enough. I think I'll thank you by name next time around, this time I'm kind of in a rush since I'm writing some other things too. Without further ado, the third chapter!

* * *

They took a turn at the light and arrived at a small shop. Even if it was little, the shop was nicely decorated. It stood out from the rest of the shops with it's brightly colored exterior and warm aura. He hated to admit it, but it seemed Belgium actually chose a nice place to eat. It seemed homely.

"So…this is it…" He said as he stared at the interior. It appeared to be empty, the only person there was a brunette woman of average height who seemed to be the owner. She was surrounded by all kinds of things you would expect to see at a bakery, but something about the shop stood out for some reason. She seemed to almost make an inviting smile as she saw the two stand in front of the shop. But she couldn't have. She didn't know them, why would she be smiling at them?

Belgium looked at Iceland and sighed. "I know it's a little small, but isn't it cute?" She asked as she stood in front of the shop with him, admiring the pretty decorations.

Iceland made a small smile and blinked at her question. "It's…nice." He murmured. They stood there for a while before realizing they looked lost. Belgium considered just going in and ordering, but she wanted Iceland to relax, and doing that could make him think she was too brash. So they stood there a while, looking like idiots to all the other people who passed by. They were obviously commenting about them.

"Would you like to go in first?" Iceland said, finally breaking the awkward silence. He opened the door and waited for her to enter, shooting glares at the nearest passersby. Belgium skipped in happily, and claimed a table near the window.

Seeing Iceland still at the door shooting glares at people, she giggled and grabbed his arm. "Here! Sit over here while I order something." She urged to make him sit down. Then she took his jacket and placed it neatly on the table, folding it neatly. After making sure he was well seated, she went up to the woman and started talking to her. Iceland tried to listen to their conversation closely, but he didn't understand a word they were saying. It sounded a bit like French, but he wasn't really sure. At certain points in the conversation, he noticed that Belgium looked back at him and giggled. The woman seemed to be telling her something, it was probably gossip. Gossip about him, to be exact. Then he saw Belgium raise her eyebrow and blush at something the woman said, before quickly dismissing it. The woman chuckled, then went to the back of the shop.

He eyed Belgium closely as she came back and sat in front of him. She still has bit of a blush, but it was fading. He looked out the window dismissively, then commented on her little exchange with the owner. "I forgot you spoke French." He said in a stoic voice.

Belgium looked outside the window too, trying to figure out what he was looking at. It seemed as if he was just looking for an excuse not to look at her, because there was nothing of interest happening outside. "Oh, yeah. I speak Dutch, French, German, Spanish, English and a bit of Portuguese." She answered, still trying to pinpoint where he was looking at.

Iceland looked over to her, she appeared to be looking to what he was looking at. He smiled a bit, it was kind of cute. She looked a bit like a small kitten. The fact that she knew so many languages while acting like a complete dork amused him. She must have been one of those brilliant yet spacey types. "Impressive." He told her as he continued to attempt to figure out what was happening in her head. While he was thinking, the woman came over and placed two cups of hot chocolate on the table. He took off his gloves and grasped his cup.

Belgium looked at him and nodded. "You're gonna love this place, the owner is from Wallonia, and she makes traditional Belgian cuisine and some international treats." She said cheerfully.

"Is the food any good?" He asked as he started drinking some of the hot chocolate. It was certainly delicious, and it was just the right temperature. He drank about half then placed it back on the table.

"It's amazing! It has a…a certain…j_e ne sais quoi_ to it." She answered as she picked up her cup.

Iceland looked at her and smiled, before looking back outside. "Nice choice of words."

She looked confused for a while, then she realized what she did. "Oh, I forgot you don't understand French..." She murmured downheartedly.

"_Nei_…" He muttered as he drank some more.

When he said that, Belgium perked up and smiled. "Aww, was that Icelandic?" She asked as she got his attention again. "You sound so adorable!"

"I prefer not to speak it around others." He said in a low murmur as he finished his cup.

"Aww, why not?" She protested.

Iceland shrugged and placed his cup near the border of the table. "It's complicated." He answered as the woman took his cup and placed the food on the table.

With a warm smile, the woman encouraged them both to eat. "Bon Apetit!" She said in a thick Belgian accent. It wasn't the same as Belgium's, but Iceland noticed it was quite similar. Then he looked at the food, it was nicely prepared, there was enough food for both of them. It seemed that Belgium had ordered something that wasn't on the menu, considering nothing on the menu even LOOKED remotely like what the woman had served.

Then he spotted it. LICORICE. It was his weakness, and before Belgium could react, he took a couple of pieces and ate them.

"See, I knew you liked sweets!" Belgium cheered as he saw him eat. Then she noticed she seemed to be taking all the licorice for himself. "Umm…Iceland?"

He stopped suddenly and stared at her, waiting for what she was going to say.

"Aww, you're adorable!"

He swallowed then blinked at her statement. He almost choked, but he was able to hide it pretty well. "Sorry, I just like licorice." He said with an embarrassed look on his face. He still had some licorice in his hand, and he grabbed a small piece of bread as well.

"JUST like?" She giggled.

"…Yes." He nodded as he took some more, leaving her with no licorice.

Belgium pouted, and pushed his arm away from the food. "Hey! Leave some for me!" She was too late, he had eaten all the licorice. "You pig!" She exclaimed with a laugh.

"I was hungry." He answered as he looked at the rest of the food.

"So am I, but I'm not scarfing down all the food, am I?" She teased with a cat-like smile.

"No, I guess you're not." Iceland said as he reached for another piece of bread. Belgium stopped him, taking the bread and eating it in less than a minute. "Hey!"

"What? This is my impression of you." She joked.

"Well, it's lacking." He grumbled.

"Oh, sorry. Let me do this again." She laughed as she puffed up her chest and ruffled her hair. "Look at me, I'm Iceland! I like to eat licorice and talk to birds! I like to look cold! But on the inside I'm just a big teddy bear!"

"That was a horrible impression of me. Your accent sounds more Scottish than Icelandic." He answered, now playing along with her little joke.

"Wait I forgot…MRMPH!" She added with another piece of bread in her mouth.

"Alright, alright. Want to see my impression of you?" He chuckled with a grin.

"Sure." She laughed, expecting little of a challenge.

""Look at me, I'm Belgium! I'm just a super duper happy ray of sunshine! I'm the leader of the hyper fantabulous organization that makes everyone else be the bestest of friends!" He said, imitating her cheerful outlook and trying to copy her smile. Then he noticed that his face simply did not bend like that. After he finished, he went back to his normal stoic face.

"I was getting more of an Poland vibe from that." Belgium said, trying to hold back her laughter. Did she really sound like that? Or was he just exaggerating to make her feel bad? It didn't really matter, because the faces he made looked to hilarious for her to stop giggling.

"And I enjoy waffles." He added before taking a waffle in his right hand and taking a small bite out of it.

"Hmm…now it's accurate." She laughed as she took the waffle back. She stared at his smile and turned her head. "I like you when you're like this." She said in a hushed tone.

"Like what?" He asked, now grabbing another cup of hot chocolate that the woman placed on the table.

"Happy, smiling. When you're not being anti-social." She sighed as she blew on her hot chocolate and stared at it.

"I'm not." He protested.

"Yes you are." She said with a small smile that faded as she kept staring at the cup.

"I'm just isolated." He answered, now staring at his cup too.

Not taking her eyes off the cup, she inhaled a deep breath and held it closer to her. "But you choose to keep it that way."

"I like it." He muttered as he took another sip.

She took a small sip then nit her lip. "You know, when I was younger, I would've given anything to stand out. I was always in the shadow of my brother and Spain…" She yearned before Iceland interrupted her.

"Speaking of Spain, how is he? Aren't you two dating?" Iceland asked, trying to avoid talking about things that were too personal.

"He's probably well, but we broke up some time ago. I'm single now." She said as she put down her cup and made a virtually unnoticeable smile.

He stayed quiet for a moment, then finished his hot chocolate. "Well, I'm sorry for your loss." He said in an apologetic voice.

Belgium's smile widened. She looked back at Iceland and let out a small chuckle. "Loss? He's not dead, Iceland. Besides, I'm already over it."

"What helped you get over it?" He then asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged and looked out the window, watching the leaves fall from a nearby tree. "You know, things. I've been so busy lately…when I get home, I don't really have time to stop and think about being alone. I just have more work to do."

"Work such as?" He said with a grin. He found it hard to believe she had THAT much work.

"Yourself. Don't look at me like that, I've been in charge of your case for around a year now." She answered in a staid tone.

Iceland looked disarrayed for a moment, then looked at her directly at her eyes. "My case."

"Yes, your case. We really want you in the Union, Iceland." She replied with a serious expression.

"Not this again." He griped before looking away from her and taking a deep breath.

"Please?" She pleaded in desperation.

"I already told you no, why do you keep insisting?" He grumbled, now sinking into his seat.

"In the hopes that you say yes after I get you on a sugar rush." She joked.

"So that has been your plan all along?" He asked with a stoic voice.

"Yeah, it's been my diabolical plot all this time!" She exclaimed gleefully.

"I'm not sure how to feel about that." He sighed.

"In that case, you need more sugar!" She cheered as she offered the last piece of food that was on the table and put in his mouth.

"Please control yourself." He pleaded, trying not to look at her.

Belgium crossed her arms and made a mischievous smirk. "Iceland. I won't control myself until you give in and accept to be a member of the Union!" The owner of the shop placed the bill on the table, but both were too distracted to give the cost a second thought, so Belgium simply signed a check and continued smirking at Iceland.

"I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO." He almost screamed, trying not to lose his composure.

"Fine, then this jacket is mine. So are these gloves." She said as she took his things.

"That's stealing." He growled while trying to grab his things.

"No, that's negotiating." She teased.

Now angry, he stood up and stood in front of her, trying to control his urge to slam his hands against the table. "If that's how you solve problems in the Union, the little bit of interest I had just faded. Give me back my things, I'm leaving."

"No! We were having fun…" She whined with a puppy dog look in across her face, now holding the jacket and gloves close to her chest.

"Fun? I had fun until you started acting like a spoiled seven year old who isn't getting what she wants." He grunted as he snatched his things and opened the door.

"Listen. You may not care what others think of you, or what happens to others, but I do care. I'm trying to make things better for all of us. I'm trying to get us all out of our crisis. I'm trying to help. I don't want another World War to happen, do you have any idea how hard it was for me to get over that?" She cried with tears in her eyes as she stood up. She grabbed his arm, but the grip wasn't as tight as before, instead it was unsure and desperate.

"Guilt won't work on me, Belgium." He answered in an emotionless tone, making his way towards the door and shaking off her arm with ease.

"Don't you dare walk away from me." She growled, putting herself between him and the door.

"Just move." He sighed as he opened the door and took a step outside.

Belgium placed herself in front of him again, and clung to his arm, trying to keep him from going away. "Never." She said in a low whisper before hugging him tightly. "Not until you think about it well." She mumbled into his chest. Iceland wanted to pull away, but for some reason, he didn't. It felt oddly…satisfying. As much as he wanted to yell at her for trying to drag him into her little 'club', he couldn't bring himself to pull away. Instead, he stood there, shooting glares at the passersby.


	4. Grew On Me

**Author's Note**: This is only late if you're not Hawaiian. I'm not. So...I kept my promise to Hawaiians? I'm extremely sorry. So sorry, you have no idea. I rewrote this chapter completely, that's why it's late. I hope it meets your standards, I promise Chapter 5 will be better and on time. I love you all for reviewing. I also wanna give a shout out to that girl who's reading in Belgium. Mostly because I saw it on the traffic chart and laughed at the fact there was one Belgian but about 10 Russians and Norwegians. It was mostly scared laughing, by the way. Without further ado, Chapter 4:

* * *

After a while, Iceland realized that it was probably best if he left immediately, otherwise he would never hear the end of it. If anyone saw him, they'd think they were in a relationship. It was easier to try and talk her out of it than put up a fight, considering the more he struggled the tighter she held on. "Let me go." Iceland grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

"No…" She whimpered as tears started to stream down her cheeks.

"Don't cry…" He murmured as he thought what to do. He considered wiping away her tears, but he didn't want her to lash out at him for touching her. He tried to push her away from his arm, but she only enforced a tighter grip.

"No! Don't boss me around!" She cried.

"I'm not, I…" He took a deep breath and thought about what he was about to say. "Listen, if it means that much to you, I'll think about it."

Her eyes brightened, and she wiped some tears from her left eye. "Honestly?" She murmured as she looked at him directly in the eyes.

"Yes, honestly." He answered before turning away to avoid eye contact and pulling away.

"That's great! Maybe you're not as cold as I thought!" She shouted happily as the sparkle in her eye returned.

"You thought I was cold?" He asked with a confused expression. Sure, he was emotionally detached, but he still held affection for some things like…licorice. Mostly licorice. In fact, if people were licorice, he would have made friends with the entire continent of Europe. He was amazed by her strange ability to smile after crying over him, but maybe it was a natural thing for most people he nevr noticed. "What made you think that?"

"You have ICE in your name." She giggled.

"True…" He murmured in a low voice.

"But it's not, because you're so warm and sweet." She giggled as she poked his stomach.

He made an annoyed groan at her poking and stopped her. "You don't know me." He answered, expecting no reply and trying to walk away.

"But I want to." She replied with a sad pout. "We can be…FRIENDS. You know what friends are, right? You have those?"

"...Friends don't force each other into things." He said in a low voice. "Well, I have to go now."

"Where to?" She asked as she skipped behind him.

"To the airport. There's not a lot to do in this city and the plane leaves at 1 in the morning. It's dusk already. I should get going." He explained as he kept walking.

"…Wanna stay over at my hotel room while you wait?" She offered with a large smile across her face. "They have cable!"

"Um…no thanks." He answered, not even considering the proposal. It would be even more suspicious if they shared a room. Then Poland would start calling them both and asking questions, expecting to know every detail and telling everyone in his contact list.

"Can I at least keep you company? I don't want you to be alone the rest of night. Almost everyone is going to leave tomorrow, you'll be alone until it comes." She said with a sad expression.

"I don't want to be a burden." He muttered as he shook his head.

"Trust me, you're not." She laughed. "I don't have much to do anyways. The cable I mentioned earlier is horrible. It only has singing competitions. "

"It's not going to be fun." He replied, hoping to talk her out of it.

"Oh, c'mon." She insisted. "I just want to keep you company!"

"I'm going to call a cab." He stated, trying to ignore her insistence on the matter.

"A cab, you say?" She asked as she looked around. There were a few cabs parked around, but most seemed to be unmanned.

"Unless you prefer walking." He added, making sure to make her understand that he didn't want her to come with him.

Belgium shrugged. "I don't really mind. I'm not America, I can hold my own very well during long walks."

"I'm sure as soon as we're halfway there you're going to start complaining." Iceland muttered with a noticeably haughty expression.

"That's what I have you for. You can carry me." She chuckled as she reached in for a hug.

Iceland took a few steps back and shook his head. He was blushing, but it was barely noticeable.

"…You know you would." Belgium said with a teasing tone.

"Only out of pity." He muttered in a low voice.

Belgium shrugged and waited to see what he was going to do next. "Well, aren't you gonna call a cab?"

"Yes, but I'm waiting for one to arrive." He was starting to wonder what was wrong with her, she seemed so nosy about everything he did.

She tried to hold back a giggle and smiled. "Have you even been to a big city before, Iceland?" She asked with a teasing tone. "Cabs don't just come over magically."

"I have, I stay in Reykjavik all the time!" He protested, not understanding what was so funny.

Belgium nodded and tried to hide her now growing urge to laugh. "A _really_ big city. Like London, New York, Rio, Tokyo…"

"Reykjavik is big…" He complained.

"New York has more population than your entire country." She countered with a serious tone.

"Maybe you have a point." He sighed in defeat.

"I always do." She sang as she approached the taxi stop and waved over at some taxi drivers that had recently parked there. "HEY! WE NEED A CAB OVER HERE!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, making Iceland's ears ring.

One of the drivers noticed and started to scream back too. "TO WHERE?"

"THE AIRPORT! THIS GUY HAS A FLIGHT TO CATCH!" She shouted as she pointed towards Iceland.

"IS IT URGENT?" The driver asked as people started to honk.

"Hey, Iceland, is it urgent?" She asked in a calm tone.

He was baffled by her quick change of tone, but still managed to reply in a calm tone in return. "Not really, I have some time, I still want to be there earl-…" He was interrupted by her screaming again, and this time it was fairly close to his left ear.

"IT'S NOT URGENT, BUT HE WOULD PREFER TO GET THERE WITH SOME TIME TO SPARE!" She screamed. Iceland was pretty sure she had damaged his ears permanently, but at least once he was home the whole ordeal would be over.

"ALRIGHT, GET IN!" The driver shouted as he gestured towards his cab.

"…That was…loud." He muttered in awe as he sat in the far side of the cab.

"Learned it from America." She joked as she scooted next to him. It seemed to make him uncomfortable, but she hardly noticed.

"That explains it." He muttered before scooting away from her.

"Did I hurt your hearing? I'm sorry." She apologized as she got closer.

"Possibly. It's..erm…fine." He answered, feeling a bit uneasy with her so close to him.

"So, what airline are you taking? Are you going to stay with the other Nordics?" She asked as she put on her seat belt.

"No. I'm going back to my country. Probably taking Icelandic Air." He explained as he looked out the window.

"…You guys have an airline?" She asked with a surprised expression.

"Why does this surprise you?" He asked, feeling insulted by the question.

"Nothing, it's just that you know, with the whole thing with the…" She bit her lip and stayed quiet for a while, prompting a bad reaction from him.

"You think we're too unimportant to have one, don't you?" He asked, ready to start screaming and tell her about all the things he was involved in.

"No, I mean…volcanoes." Belgium said in a low voice. She hoped the question would calm him down, but it seemed to only make him squint and give her a look that was basically asking if she was serious.

"Volcanoes?" He asked in confusion. "Why are you asking about volcanoes?"

"How can you even live with volcanoes erupting every few months?" She asked, trying to make more conversation.

"You get used to it." He replied as he leaned back in his seat a little.

"…To volcanoes?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Iceland nodded, prompting even more questions in her head. "…You're so calm about the whole thing."

"Well, I've been around volcanoes my whole life, why would I be scared of them?" He asked, wondering why she was suddenly so interested in volcanoes.

"Because it's like a mountain with the top cut off to show a whole sea of fiery doom." She explained with a serious expression.

"How poetic." He replied stoically, still not understanding what was the big deal about volcanoes.

"I know, I know…I just…I don't understand how you can be so casual about volcanic activity." She murmured in a low voice.

"It's nothing, besides, the springs are great because of the activity." He said with a smile. "The springs are great, almost everyone goes. Lots of people bond over them, but I prefer to go alone."

"Springs?" She asked before remembering that it was one of the main reasons people visited. That must have been why he was so proud of his springs.

"Yeah, lots of them. They're very good for back pain and to relax." He explained calmly.

"Still. Volcanoes. Don't you ever think about the possible consequences of a large-scale eruption?" She asked with genuine curiosity.

"It's nothing, Belgium." He answered, shrugging the possibility off. "You should worry about other things."

"How is your name Iceland if there's volcanoes everywhere? She asked with a cat smile. It was starting to grow on Iceland, but he honestly wished she wouldn't ask so many questions.

"Most are shield volcanoes and some are just fissure vents. And I didn't PICK the name Iceland, some random Viking did. I think he just saw some mountains and moved on to Greenland." He answered with a noticeably intensifying frown.

"…Why is it called Greenland anyway?" She asked with a childlike expression across her face.

"Because the Vikings may have needed glasses." He answered sarcastically, hoping she would leave the subject alone. "Isn't this common knowledge?"

"It _is_, but I just wanted to see your reaction to my silly questions." She chuckled as the car came to a full stop in front of the airport. "Because you're kinda cute when you're annoyed." She added with a smile. Iceland blushed, but tried to hide it by looking for his passport. Belgium turned her head, trying to figure out what exactly was so embarrassing about her statement.

They were interrupted by the driver, who seemed to be getting impatient. "I kind of need a tip here. Family and all."

"Oh, sorry. Here, take this." She said before handing the man some money. "It's a good thing I carry pounds every once in a while."

"Belgium, you don't have to pay for me." Iceland sighed.

"It's nothing, really." She laughed, trying to make little of the situation.

"I'll pay you back soon." He insisted, not wanting her to think that he needed someone to take care of him. He prided himself in his independence, he just didn't like people thinking they needed to help him with everything.

"No worries, Iceland." She replied with a warm smile.

"I promise I will." He stated in a firm tone. It felt horrible to not be able to pay for anything, even worse when the person paying was Belgium.

Belgium shrugged and tried to change the subject. "Hey, you didn't bring any luggage, did you?"

"No, I only have the identification and the ticket." He answered as he took out his passport. "It's just a one day meeting, I don't understand why some nations want to bring their entire closets with them."

Belgium smiled, it reminded her of the time France brought a stylist to a reunion. It was embarrassing to everyone else, but he seemed to think it was the most normal thing, even telling the stylist to do other people's hair. "Oh, okay. So…where's the terminal?" She asked as she skipped along to some seats near a group of tourists. Luckily, there were two empty seats with a good view of the flight schedule board.

"It's to the left, but I'd prefer to just hand around for a while." He said with a serious expression as he tried to pinpoint his flight.

"Hey! Can I come along to the terminal with you?" She asked cheerfully, hoping to wave goodbye as he left.

"I don't think they allow that after a certain checkpoint." He answered with a serious tone.

"Ugh, forgot…" She muttered sadly. She felt like an idiot for even suggesting the idea. "So…what? Can I only keep you company for about an hour before takeoff?" She asked with a worried look.

"Pretty much." He answered stoically.

"Can we talk about your volcanoes?" She asked with a cheeky grin across her face.

Iceland gave her a sharp glare and shook his head.

She pouted, and started to pull on his jacket, annoying him even more. "But. But…"

"Do you want to talk about yours?" He asked with a fake cheerful tone, trying to imitate her voice.

"I don't have any." She replied with a shrug. "I don't think I do, at least."

"Exactly." He muttered as he started to read his ticket information.

"What was the point of that question, anyways?" She chuckled.

"To get you to ask that one." He grumbled as he scooted away.

"What question?" She asked, now confused. He didn't make much sense sometimes, no wonder England thought he was weird. Well, England phrased it in another manner, but Belgium preferred to block out the Brit's foul-mouthed rambling.

"The one where you ask what's the point of the question, because I really see no point in this conversation." He replied with an exasperated expression.

"…Hmph." She grunted as she rested her head on his shoulder. "For the record, I have rivers, and rivers are cooler than volcanoes." She yawned groggily as she started to drift into unconsciousness.

"Belgium. Wake up." He said as he saw her sleeping on him. It was almost endearing, she seemed to be too tired to even react to his talking. She had probably spent too much energy yelling and jumping around all over the place. He sighed in defeat and decided to let her sleep on his arm for a couple of hours, still wondering what drove her to be so cheerful and enthusiastic. He was starting to grow accustomed to the feeling of her on his arm, now he could stomach it without much of a second thought. He didn't want to wake her up, but at the same time, he could feel his arm starting to fall asleep. He attempted to pull away, but she only held on tightly and rubbed her hard against his arm.

"She thinks I'm a pillow. This is just perfect." He grumbled sarcastically. _"She is kinda cute though….Even if she can't seem to stay quiet for a minute…"_ He thought before sighing again.

Hours passed, and he realized that she wasn't waking up anytime soon. He didn't want to wake her up, but his plane would be arriving soon. Quietly, he started to pull away and gently slid away from her hold. He got up and started to walk away, but looked back and started to remove his jacket. _"She'll get cold if I just leave her like this…" _He thought. He returned to her and placed his jacket around her, the turned away again. "_Either way, I already have plenty of those jackets…" _He told himself as he walked to the terminal. _"When she wakes up, she'll be warm. I'll be home and I'll never have to talk about this again."_


	5. Like a Tumor

**Author's Note: **Yay for being earlier than last time! Um, I'd just like to say that this chapter is mostly Iceland centric, the next one is mostly Belgium centered. After that…well, it balances out. Also, does anyone get the reference in the 4th and 5th chapter titles? The main problem with this chapter is that I did not know how far I could go with bad words. So instead of the much cooler word that you are all already familiarized with, I ended up going with 'freakin'. I wish that was clearer about ratings. We really need more clarity …And an MA rating. We really need that. Without further rambling from someone that should be asleep:

* * *

Iceland arrived home near morning, it was starting to get colder, winter was coming early this year. He looked around the house, it was empty as always save for Mr. Puffin, who he had left in charge of the house. He was sleeping in a small basket, and Iceland preferred not to wake him. Quietly, he made his way to his room and got into the bed. He didn't even bother with changing his clothing, he just wanted to sleep.

The next few days passed by slowly. Far too slowly. He often spent days waiting for something of interest to happen, but nothing ever did. He hadn't even gotten a call to inform him of the next World Meeting; he started to suspect that they had forgotten about him. It surely wouldn't be the first time. Finally, one day something interesting happened. He got up early in the morning to find a box in front of his house. At first he was suspicious, but then he realized it had a small picture of a cat drawn near his address.

He opened the box to find his jacket, and as he put it back on he noticed that a letter fell from one of the pockets. It was neatly folded two times, making it the perfect size to place it in his pocket. He opened it quickly and made a small smile when he saw what it was about. Once he realized he was smiling though, he forced it away and continued reading with a serious expression.

"_Dear Iceland, _

_I just wanted to thank you for leaving me your jacket when I fell asleep. I decided to mail it back to you, since I figured it was important to you since you always wear it at reunions. It was a really gentlemanly gesture that I really appreciated. Still, you could at least have told me you were leaving…I woke up around two hours later…I was kind of lonely…On the bright side, by that time some other nations were around and kept me company. I'm in Brussels now; I had to write this letter in a rush, since Spain and Greece have some matters I have to tend to. You know, Union things! Well, not really, since you're not in the Union, but you get the point! Are you still considering the Union thing? We REALLY want you to join us! Sweden can barely contain his excitement! Or his coffee. I think it's the coffee. We should really buy decaf. Germany and England are willing to give you the vote too! But England says that 'Rockall' is his. I don't know what he meant by that._

_I'm sorry if I drooled on you. I was really tired. I really enjoyed out time together! Even if you refuse to join, can we at least stay friends? I'd love to show you around Brussels and Antwerp one day!_

_Love, _

_Belgium_

_P.S. Your jacket is so warm and soft!"_

At the very bottom, it had a drawing of a cat, identical to the one from before. He sighed and thought about what he could write back. He had never been one to express his feelings well, instead hiding them and suppressing them, but he felt as he should write something sweet back. He took a pen and envelope and hastily wrote the address and all the information needed for postal service and grabbed a paper from a nearby pile. He started to write, but he ended up discarding the letter. Then he tried again. And again. And again. Finally, he realized he was just bad with feelings to begin with, and decided to write a serious letter.

"_Dear Belgium,_

_Thanks for returning my jacket. It was nothing; I have plenty of jackets here. They're all made of the same stuff anyway. Good luck with the Union. I'm not really interested. Tell England I just want the surrounding area, I don't really care for his stupid rock._

_I can take my clothes to the local laundry. I don't really want to visit other countries. _

_Sincerely,_

_Iceland_

_P.S. Yeah, I use softener._

The letter was riddled with noticeable smudges and crossed out lines, and ended up worse than if he hadn't crossed out anything at all. The smudges that most stood out were the ones that seemed to read "love" and "yours truly" at the end, with a hastily written "Sincerely, Iceland" replacing the two words.

Mr. Puffin watched the whole spectacle from the door and laughed. "Wow, you are really bad at writing letters, aren't you?" He teased.

"Who are you to complain? You don't even have hands." Iceland grumbled as he turned around to face the bird.

He took the letter and read it, then shook his head. "You ended a letter with 'I use softener.'" Mr. Puffin replied in a serious voice. "If that isn't bad, I don't know what is."

"So, what do you think I should write then, genius?" He asked sarcastically. Frankly, he didn't even know why Mr. Puffin cared, seeing as he had never bothered with these types of things before.

"A love letter! Soften her up a bit; make her think you're one of those artistic types." Mr. Puffin sang. "The ladies' love art."

Iceland cringed at his pet's last expression and threw one of the failed letters at him. "Soften her up for what? I don't like her." He replied in a near emotionless tone.

"Right, you just _love_ her." The bird teased as he tried to grab Belgium's letter.

Iceland blushed and turned away, trying to hide his face with his jacket. "I do not." He growled as he clutched the letter tightly. At this point, it was wrinkled and some of the ink had faded away, but Iceland did not loosen his grip.

"Then why are you clutching at the letter and getting all red?" Mr. Puffin asked as he flew in front of him, making him clutch at Belgium's letter even more. "I'm not freakin' blind."

"Anger." He muttered. It was half-true, Mr. Puffin was starting to get on his nerves with his constant yammering. His sudden proximity also caught him off guard, making him hide her letter in his pocket to protect it from Mr. Puffin's quick beak.

Mr. Puffin flew atop of his head and started to sing. "Anger because you can't be together?" He hummed mockingly.

Iceland shook him off and started grumbling to himself. "Why can't you be mute?"

Mr. Puffin heard the comment and flew over to the desk again. "Because if I was, you wouldn't do anything fun. You'd just loaf around all day and write emo poetry about mountains and sheep." Before Iceland could respond, he started to shout and flap his wings, causing the papers on Iceland's desk to fly away. "FREAKIN' SHEEP, MAN. WHO THE HELL CARES ABOUT SHEEP!" Mr. Puffin screamed in a desperate attempt to get Iceland to cave.

Iceland picked up the papers on the ground and sighed. "…I get the point, Mr. Puffin."

"Ah, so you're writing her a love letter?" Mr. Puffin asked as he jumped unto the papers Iceland had picked up causing him to have to pick them up again.

Frustrated, Iceland decided to just leave the papers all over the floor. "No! Why do you want me to write one so badly anyways?"

"I care about you. You're my closest friend, Ice. I DON'T WANT YOU TO BE ALOOOO-" He started to sing before Iceland stopped him.

"You want the house to yourself." Iceland answered stoically without even looking at the bird.

"Ah, crap. How did you know?" He cried, now flying around in a panic.

"You planned a party this entire week because you thought I was going to be away, didn't you?" He asked accusingly.

"Maybe. But that's not the point! I'm tired of you moping around! Especially when you can mope around a girl! She seems nice, why don't you ask her out?" Mr. Puffin protested as he calmed down.

Iceland gulped and turned away. "She's an acquaintance."

"Oh, oh…I see." Mr. Puffin chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" Iceland asked with a raised eyebrow, cautious about the bird's intentions.

"You are _shy_." Mr. Puffin teased.

"Me? Shy? I'm the most social person I know!" He shouted back defensively.

"You must not know a lot of people." Mr. Puffin sighed as he shook his head. "Or have a different definition of social…"

"Just tell me what you mean." Iceland growled as he hid his blush. He honestly wished Mr. Puffin would pick another topic to be so persistent about, anything would be better than what he was currently rambling about.

Mr. Puffin sighed and stood near the door. "I mean, you're shy around her because you don't feel you deserve her. You have an inferiority complex." He explained in a calm tone of voice. It was extremely unusual to hear him in a calm voice, but it was shocking for him to actually make an intelligent statement. Not that Iceland would admit it, of course.

"What?" He asked in shock, trying to figure out why Mr. Puffin would say something like that.

"Shh, I'm explaining." Mr. Puffin whispered.

"Have you been watching those telenovelas again?" Iceland asked in a serious tone, trying to change the subject.

"I don't care what you say; Pedro and Sandra love each other. If it wasn't for that bitch, Julia…" Mr. Puffin started to say before realizing that Iceland was already turning away.

"No, wait! I have to finish explaining this." Mr. Puffin said as he flew in front of him.

"You have exactly 10 minutes." He muttered in a stoic voice.

"You think you're not good enough, you know that she's done great things, but you're not sure if you've done great enough things to deserve her. You're intimidated by her. That and you have no idea how love works. But you have to ask yourself the question that Sandra asked herself: Do you want to be alone? Do you WANT to spend the rest of your days staring at the ceiling, hoping that someone will come by and…" Mr. Puffin explained before being interrupted.

"…I think you need to stop drinking." Iceland replied in a serious tone. "And find a new show to watch."

"I won't stop until you write a proper letter to that girl!" Mr. Puffin insisted, causing Iceland to get angry.

"Fine. I'll go write about _sheep_ then! At least they aren't alcoholics like you." Iceland growled as he pushed him out and closed the door.

"Oh, c'mon! Sheep aren't even interesting! Write about me! The most adorable puffin in the universe!" The bird cried as he banged his beak on the door.

"You're not even that cute." Iceland muttered irritably under his breath.

"HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT! WHAT DOES THIS GIRL SEE IN YOU!" Mr. Puffin exclaimed, almost straining his throat.

Iceland's eyes widened and he started to blush. "…She sees something in me?" He asked in a low whisper.

"Apparently, but I don't know what!" Mr. Puffin shouted, still recovering from the vocal strain.

"…I'm…I'm going to go to sleep…" He mumbled as he made his way to the bed. It was an odd feeling…to have someone interested in him…someone who wasn't a stalker, at least.

"Yeah, you better. Sleep tight and dream about sheep and that girl, you…you…JERK I hope you frolic across happy fields and have a nice life together!" Mr. Puffin shouted at the door. Once he heard Iceland sit down in his bed, he flew over down the hall in a rush. He had an idea, one that was sure to irritate his owner at first, but one that he would thank him for later.

"Heh, that jerk will see. Hahahaha…He'll see. I'm gonna write the most heartfelt letter ever!" Mr. Puffin laughed as he flew away and into the closet. There were many things there, mostly old books and machines that Iceland didn't give any use to. He spotted an old typewriter among the junk and pulled it out with his beak. Miraculously, it still worked. It even had some paper and ink.

He started to bounce across the typewriter, writing the most formal letter he could think of. It didn't sound a lot like his owner, but he figured Belgium would just think he was being "gentlemanly."

"_Dear Belgium,_

_Thanks for returning the jacket, it was my favorite. I didn't want to see you cold, so I decided to give it to you. I am seriously considering your kind words, in fact, how would you like to come over to my country for a visit? I believe it's only a few hours. We can tour Reykjavik and visit the hot springs. You can stay at my house; my only company is my intelligent, fun-loving and adorable puffin. I am sure he would approve of your stay and encourage us to travel around the island. Tell England he can keep the rock. I just want some company for the weekend._

_Lots of love, _

_Iceland_

_P.S. Yes, my puffin does my laundry. He's such a saint."_

After finishing, Mr. Puffin grabbed the paper and put it in Iceland's original envelope. It's almost as if Iceland was_ trying_ to make things easy for him. He gave a satisfied chuckle and flew to the nearest Post Office, handing the letter over to a man he had bribed many times before.

"Make sure to get it to her first thing in the morning." He whispered to the man before flying back to the house. Once there, he took precautions to not be noticed. He looked over through Iceland's window, and he seemed to be staring at the letter. It was an odd sight, but Mr. Puffin didn't pay much thought to it. He'd rather have him trying to make contact with another human being than sitting at his desk wondering why he was so lonely. "I will never understand what that girl sees in him." He grumbled as he shook his head in disapproval. On the bright side, when she finally arrived, Iceland would be too busy acting like a lovesick fool that he wouldn't notice much else. Mr. Puffin could use that time to do many things…


	6. All Aboard!

**VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This is the previous chapter told from Belgium's perspective, but I think the next one is more centered on her than this one. I rewrote this one five times because I wasn't sure if I wanted to do the perspective change or not. But hey, I thought it would be interesting. Oh! I should let you all know…On Saturday, I'm leaving for Washington. I am not sure if I'll have internet, so this may or not be continued on Sunday. I will try everything in my power to get it here on Sunday because I love each and every one of you even if the popularity of this in Russia and Norway scares me. (Oh, and a shoutout to the gals (and guys) in Singapore!)

* * *

As always, England was giving one of his lectures and no one seemed to be paying attention. With Denmark poking Germany and Sweden clinging on to the coffee machine as if it were the only thing that was between life and death, it seemed as if it was going to be an average reunion as always. Belgium had been sitting there for about an hour, struggling to keep her eyes on England. She knew that if he didn't see at least one person paying attention, he'd throw a fit like last time. Still, her eyes kept straying to the table, where she had set Iceland's jacket. She wasn't exactly sure why she had brought it, but it made the reunion slightly more tolerable.

At the airport, some nations had asked her about who it belonged to, but she just lied and said she bought it was the gift shop. Some had even come up with theories as to whose jacket it was, but Belgium was able to shoot all their ideas down. The only one who was still a little suspicious was France, but she was able to distract him with the promise of pictures of all the other European Union members. Once he had gone away, Belgium had to sit there in the airport even longer, giving her some time to think about things. Even on the plane she kept thinking. Luckily, no one approached her about the jacket again, but she couldn't help feeling that she should return it.

Now she sat there, in the middle of a reunion, not even paying attention to what was happening. Suddenly, an idea struck. She picked up a nearby paper and started writing.

The sudden movement by Belgium caught England's eye, and the Brit slowly walked towards her, making Belgium stop in her tracks. "Belgium, could you be kind enough to tell me what you are writing?" He asked with a scowl.

"Huh? I was gonna write something to Iceland." She explained without giving it a second thought. After saying it, she gulped, hoping England wouldn't mind. She was aware that both of them didn't exactly have the _best_ of interactions.

"About?" England asked accusingly, ready to reprimand her for not doing her paperwork.

"…The Union thing. To see if he was still interested." Belgium replied in a low voice.

After a few excruciating seconds of waiting for a response, England placed his hand on his forehead and sighed. Belgium wasn't sure whether to take it as a good or a bad sign, so she prepared herself for the worst.

"Alright. Germany and I are willing to give him the vote, but he needs to get his things together."

"Yeah, I'll tell him." Belgium answered with a large smile. She was thrilled that England hadn't chewed her out, and even more pleased that she didn't have to make up a convoluted story involving cats.

"Good. And tell him Rockall is mine." England added as he turned over to the board and started to write.

"…What's Rockall?" Belgium asked in confusion.

"It's…He'll know what I mean." England said with a sigh. He considered explaining the entire dispute, but it would probably take too long.

"Okay then." She giggled as she started to write again.

"And hurry up; we have matters to tend to. Concerning the likes of those two." He added as he gestured towards Spain and Greece who were sitting peacefully in their respective seats. Greece seemed to be asleep and Spain was busy contemplating his navel.

Belgium rolled her eyes and shook her head teasingly. "Not this again, England."

"Just write the letter and get back to work." England growled as he started to write on the board again, almost breaking the chalk with all the pressure he forced on it.

Belgium giggled and looked over to the others. Sweden seemed to have knocked out Italy for getting too close to the coffee machine, France and Hungary were gossiping about the possibilities of Denmark and Germany becoming a thing, and Denmark seemed too content with poking Germany to really care about anything else. "…But no one is working." She laughed.

England was ready to throw a fit, but he settled with stomping his foot on the ground and muttering some curses in a low voice. "Just do what I say!" He told Belgium as he turned back to his board.

The rest of the reunion went better than expected. Somehow, Germany managed to not punch Denmark and Sweden seemed to have calmed down after Spain gave him a talk about the dangers of caffeine.

She didn't even to do any cleaning up afterwards; Spain volunteered to do it for her. It bought her some time to go to the local post office and make the negotiations to ship the jacket. Before giving the jacket to the men at the counter, she doodled a cat on the box and slipped the letter into one of the pockets. It was a good way to avoid having to pay extra, but she mostly wanted to surprise him.

Days later, she heard a knock on her door. She wasn't expecting company, so she was initially suspicious. For all she knew, it could be a robber, a serial killer…or worse. _France. _She opened the door with caution and sighed in relief when she saw who it was. It was just her older brother, Netherlands. He seemed to be angry, but that wasn't really news when it came to him.

"Belgium, this is for you." He growled as he handed her a letter. One glance at the letter and Belgium knew what it was about.

Belgium smiled and waved him away. "…Thank you." She sang as she tried to close the door.

Netherlands stopped the door with his hand and grunted. "Who's sending you mail?"

"It's nothing, brother." Belgium sighed as she closed the door, now making sure he didn't open it again. He was a good brother and all, but sometimes he had the tendency to overreact over the smallest of things. If he knew about what happened at the airport, he'd probably kill them. _Slowly._ Then use whatever was left as tulip mulch.

She shook her head and tried to forget the thought as she opened the letter. It was odd. It seemed to be written on a typewriter, and almost no one used those anymore. The content was even weirder. It sounded so formal, as if it wasn't even written by him. There was one line that caught her off guard, though.

"_I just want some company for the weekend."_

She had never pictured him as that type of guy. Yet, after thinking about it a while, it started to make sense. She re-read the letter a few times and squinted as she looked closer.

"He wants me to go..?" She murmured in confusion.

"Who's he?" Netherlands shouted from outside.

"Nothing, brother. Please, don't worry." Belgium laughed as she locked the door and continued reading.

"Are you sure?" He asked as he banged on the door.

"Sure!" Belgium sang as she dialed on her phone. She knew exactly who to call when it came to these kind of things.

Later that day, Belgium had agreed to meet France near a small park. She had explained everything he needed to know already, but she had to wait for him to process all the information.

"So, can you?" She asked in almost pleading manner.

"Don't worry, I can distract England and get you a substitute." France stated with a smile. "I'll make sure you're over there before the end of this week."

"Thank you so much, France." She said with a smile. Even though he was odd, France was a good man. Sure he often acted strangely and did idiotic things, but at least he did it on the name of love…Well, his own brand of love.

"Anytime, anytime. I simply cannot bear to see any lovers parted." France sang happily.

"We're not lovers." Belgium laughed as she thought about it. She wouldn't hate to be, though. Iceland was nice. Kind of. Well, he wasn't_ horrible_. His antisocial tendencies were almost endearing.

France nodded and patted her on the back. "Yet." He whispered in a low voice.

"I'd be surprised if he even gave me the time of day." Belgium joked with a smile. "He's so…ergh."

"Ah, a cold one…" France murmured as he stroked his chin.

"Well, his name_ is_ Iceland." She giggled as she fixed her headband.

"The thing about cold people is that once you melt their icy exterior, you find a warm and passionate lovers lying underneath." France explained with a wide smirk across his face. Belgium suspected that France was recalling some late night meeting he had with someone, but she would rather not think about it too much. Doing so would probably cause her to need months of therapy.

"…You know about this well, don't you?" She murmured as she looked around to check if anyone was around.

"Perhaps. There is a reason French is the language of love." He laughed.

"True. So, what are you planning?" Belgium asked as she kept alert to anyone who might see them. She couldn't risk being found out by England or any other member of the Union.

"Well, I'm going to get you some plane tickets. Then I'm going to find a way to get around England." France explained in a low whisper. Belgium nodded and turned away to return home, but France stopped her handed her a suitcase.

"…What's this?" She asked in confusion.

"All you will need on your trip." His smile made her uncomfortable; he probably put more lingerie than pants in there.

"When did you have time to pack this?" She asked as she took the suitcase.

France stayed quiet for a while trying to find an excuse, and then he turned around. "I forgot I had to visit Austria! Adieu!" He sang as he walked away. Belgium sighed. Perhaps it was for the best to not know.

The following morning, France sat in his usual seat and waited for England to come in. By this time, Belgium must have already made it to the airport safely. It was a good thing he had been able to find a last minute ticket to Frankfurt, otherwise she would have probably have had to wait until next month. Once she was in Frankfurt, the flight would take her directly to her destination. Things were going swimmingly; France was starting to believe it was his lucky day.

Still, he still had to cover for Belgium. He had a very simple plan. He simply called Turkey and told him he was in the EU if he helped did a small "favor" for him. At first Turkey declined because he thought it was one of _those _favors, but he accepted after France explained what he had in mind.

Now all he had to do was wait for the reunion to finish.

Turkey was doing a perfect impression of her. He was nice and chatting up Hungary and Poland, who admittedly, would talk to anyone who approached them. Although he did not change from his usual outfit, he had bought a blonde wig similar to Belgium's hair color and a headband. He figured that England would be too busy writing on his little board to care about what he did.

He was wrong.

England started to write on the board but stopped when he saw something odd from the corner of his eye. It seemed Belgium was missing, and Turkey was sitting in her place with a cheap blonde wig on.

He took a deep breath and approached the two, trying to resist his urge to facepalm. "Honestly, France? You expect me to be fooled by this?" England asked in disgust.

"What are you talking about? This is Belgium!" France exclaimed as he faked surprise.

"…I don't recall Belgium having a beard." He snarked with a small smirk. "Or a tan. Or such a manly figure."

"How dare you insult her beauty!" France exclaimed as he got up from his seat and slammed his hands on the table. "Her new look is all the rage in Paris!"

"Tell me where the real Belgium is." He demanded stoically as he started to get impatient.

"I am Belgium!" Turkey exclaimed while faking a womanly voice. It was horrible, but it was the best he could do.

"Shut up, Turkey." England snarled bitterly.

"I am not Turkey! I am Belgium!" The Turk insisted, now changing his accent to one that sounded more Polish than Belgian.

"Do you two think I'm an idiot? Just tell me where she is." England said as he sighed and tried to not lose his composure.

"She's out sick." France replied in a desperate attempt to get England to leave.

England raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "With?" He asked, expecting a hastily made up excuse.

"...The flu." France answered in a serious tone.

"Well, the least she could do is leave a note. She had no reason to hire a decoy." England muttered as he glared at Turkey.

"…But he looks so _fabulous_!" France cried out as he stroked Turkey's wig.

England rolled his eyes and shook his head in disapproval. "…Just call her and tell her she's only excused for a week." He grumbled as he walked away to the board. "And take that stupid wig off."

"But it's starting to grow on me." Turkey joked, making France cheer and England glare at them both.

"Fine." Turkey grumbled as he watched England walk to the board. As soon as he saw him pick up his chalk and start writing, he glanced back at France and smiled. "France, am I really in the Union now?"

France shook his head and smiled. "No! I just said it to get you to do this. I don't have any power over the EU!" He laughed heartily.

"…I hate you." Turkey growled angrily. France kept laughing, causing Turkey to rise from his seat and punch him. A few nations applauded him as he walked away with a stern look across his face. A loud thud was heard as Turkey slammed the door and left the building.

"Someone clean up the Frenchman, please." England commanded as he approached France. "God knows how he is still alive after all these years." He added as he kicked his head discreetly to check he was still alive. "Well, he's not dead. We can continue our reunion in peace!" He sang cheerfully as he went back to the board.


	7. Dazed Talking

**Author's Note:** Late post. ;_; Forgive me. Let's wish Icy a Happy late Birthday too. Next chapter will probably be put on hold. I'm sorry, but I can't be on my laptop while I'm here. Since that's happening, the very next chapters will probably be posted one after the other…Hmm…Yay, because chapter 8 and 9 are shaping up quite nicely. Originally, this was going to be longer…but…it looks better divided into three, trust me. Shortest chapter yet...next one will be much longer.

* * *

"So she's on her way? Sure, I can get someone there in about half an hour." Mr. Puffin whispered in a low voice. He didn't want to wake Iceland just yet. He was going to be in a big surprise when he got up; a close friend had just informed him that Belgium's plane would be arriving shortly. If all went according to plan, they'd be making out in the couch by Sunday. Saturday if they were brash enough.

There he was, sprawled out on the bed with his jacket thrown on the floor. He seemed to be fast asleep, and was sleep talking about something involving "waffles." How odd. He had never pictured him as a breakfast enthusiast, let alone a waffle lover. He looked so cute sleeping like that. So quiet and peaceful.

He had to put a stop to it.

Mr. Puffin flew in the room and broke the silence. Iceland felt him sit on his head, but he was too tired to even shake him off.

"Get up, man!" Mr. Puffin shouted as he jumped up and down on his head, causing Iceland to roll over on his side and hit him with a pillow in protest.

Iceland mumbled some things, but the only thing that Mr. Puffin was able to make out was a faint "get out" before getting hit with the pillow again.

"It's important!" The bird whined.

"I'm not going to lend you money." He groaned before putting a pillow over his head to block out Mr. Puffin's voice.

Mr. Puffin pulled the pillow away with his beak and started to jump again. "It's not that! I have something to show you!" He screamed.

Iceland opened his eyes and yawned. "What?"

"At the airport! There's a giant sheep." He explained in a quick burst.

Iceland only rubbed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "…And this matters to me because..?" He yawned.

"Because you are the sheep poet!" He exclaimed gleefully.

"That sounds like an awful movie." He grumbled as he walked over to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Mr. Puffin laughed and perched himself on his shoulder. "…Feeling snarky, huh? You're just like you-" He started to sing before Iceland gave him a sharp glare.

"Do not finish that sentence." He growled.

"Aren't we a bit grumpy today…" Mr. Puffin chuckled as he rolled his eyes. "Who's a grumpy teddy bear? You are! You are!" He added in a baby voice.

He wanted to smack him, but instead placed him on the desk and went back to his bed. "I'm going back to sleep." He muttered groggily before closing his eyes. Mr. Puffin flew in front of him and started to poke him.

"But it's daytime!" The bird protested, only to be shoved away by his owner.

Mr. Puffin stayed quiet for a moment, trying to figure out a good reason for him to make him go. There had to be some way of getting him out the house. A quick way that didn't involve too much effort from his part. "There are tourists at the airport!" He lied.

The answer caught Iceland's interest and made him sit up. "Tourists?" He asked curiously. He had been hoping for some tourists to come by…but he wasn't expecting them at such an odd time.

"Yeah! The tourists are flocking at the airport!" He shouted. "And they're all waiting for you!" He added gleefully.

"Well, that does sound interesting…" Iceland said in a low tone.

"Hell yeah, it does!" Mr. Puffin explained before flying over next to him. "You gotta go greet 'em!"

"Why? You don't really care about that, remember?" He snarked before getting up from the bed and walking out the door. He was still hesitant about going, but he figured it wouldn't be too bad. The worst that could happen was that no one came. He was used to disappointment anyway.

"No, I've always cared. Because you and I are the best of friends until the end of time, and I care about your future." He said in a serious tone, hoping to earn his owner's trust.

"…Suddenly I really want time to end." Iceland growled.

"Har, har. But…we need to get you spruced up." Mr. Puffin said as he flew on top of his head.

Iceland took him off and placed him next to him, trying to keep his sharp claws away from his face. "Spruced up? For what?"

"Nothing fancy, maybe comb your hair." He responded. "You do know how to comb your hair, _right_?" He teased.

Iceland raised an eyebrow and turned over, ignoring him.

"Giving me the silent treatment, eh? Okay, then _don't_ comb your hair. Have it your way. When everyone is laughing because you forgot to comb your hair, don't come running to me for moral support." Mr. Puffin said as he ruffled his feathers.

"I never go to you for moral support." He muttered. "And who cares about my hair, anyway?"

"…And that's your problem. People care." He answered as he approached him and gave him the equivalent of a hug. "I CARE ABOUT YOU, ICELAND. I SUPPORT YOU."

"You're a puffin. The best support I can get from you is on how to catch fish and even then, I have thumbs." Iceland answered, making himself chuckle a bit.

"Do not bring up the thumbs, okay!" He cried out loudly before regaining his previous stance. "I can also help you catch the ladies. The ladies love a man in a suit. And I have a permanent one."

"Oh, not this again." He groaned.

"Fine, fine. I won't talk about the ladies again if you come with me to the airport."

Iceland sat up and facepalmed. "…Why are you so determined to make me go?"

"The best way to get new tourists is to socialize! You know how America gets so many tourists? He goes outside and says hi!" Mr. Puffin sang cheerfully.

He shook his head and stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. "…You want me to say hi to all of them?" He asked just in case.

"Yep." He answered with a nod. "All of 'em."

"That's a stupid idea." He muttered with a growl. Sometimes he wondered why he still kept Mr. Puffin around, then he remembered he always found a way back. He was like a boomerang, but worse. He was capable of speech.

"And you can give away flyers with pictures of volcanoes of them!" Mr. Puffin chuckled as he pointed towards a stack of old flyers he had never gotten around to giving away.

"…I doubt that will work." He answered in a stoic voice.

"You need the money." Mr. Puffin sang in a teasing tone. "Considering you spent it all on who knows what."

Iceland took a deep breath and then exhaled. He had a point…He was really tight on cash and England would probably kill him if he learned how deep he was in debt. He always kept it to himself, but he knew he's need some outside help soon. And even though he was against people helping him with every fiber of his being, he took another deep breath and nodded. If the tourism could get him out his rut, he'd do it. Hesitantly, but he'd do it. "I'll go." He sighed in defeat.


	8. Like Butter

**Author's Note**: Guys. Guys. You are so beautiful. Like…I feel like my heart is gonna burst because it's full of rainbows. I LOVE YOU GUYS. I wish I could hug every one of you. Except Dave. Seriously, who names their kid Dave? In all seriousness, I must apologize for the (realy) late post, I'm really busy. After carefully planning my time with an abacus, I was able to get some time to make a chapter. I honestly didn't think I would! Enjoy:

* * *

The previous flight went magnificently. She had no problems with any of the passengers and the service was good. Her current flight wasn't exactly up to her standards, but she dealt with it well. She ended up stuck between a very large and sweaty man, but she decided she wouldn't complain because it was the only empty seat left. She was lucky they even _had_ an empty seat. The flight was shorter than she thought, though. They got there on time and France said he had contacts who knew contacts who knew a contact who knew Iceland. It didn't even make sense, but she trusted France. Even if he was…strange. She was too excited to mind all the problems anyway. The plane was about to land, all she had to do was run out and take her luggage.

* * *

They had both left the house a few minutes before she got there, but Iceland was walking slowly and without any motivation. Mr. Puffin was about to try and fly him over to the airport himself. Then he remembered he couldn't really handle much weight. He had to do something to make it surprising for her too. Maybe pick up some chocolates or flowers. Easy enough.

"Yo, Ice! I forgot! We need some flowers for the tourists!" He shouted as he flew into a flower shop. "TOURISTS LOVE FLOWERS. ESPECIALLY RED POPPIES."

Iceland decided to not question him and followed him in. He didn't understand why he wanted to stop for red poppies so badly, but if it got him to shut up, he'd do anything. The flowers were quite costly, but at least Mr. Puffin quieted down. Now he was just ranting about his pointless telenovela. He'd rather have him ranting about _that_ than his "feelings." Feelings were a pointless thing to him, anyways.

Once at the airport, he stood near the entrance and waited. A few tourists had arrived, but he wasn't sure how to approach them. He ended up just muttering a low "Velkomin" and handing out a flyer to everyone who passed. He didn't pay mind to any of them; they seemed too preoccupied with their own lives to care about his flyers.

Well, almost everyone.

He saw her from a distance; she seemed to be picking up her luggage from the baggage claim. He stared in both horror and awe. Horror because he really didn't expect her, and awe because she was able to lift such a heavy suitcase while still managing to look poised and prim. Mr. Puffin was enjoying himself, but he wasn't done torturing his owner just yet. As soon as he spotted the cause, he nudged Iceland and waited for a response.

"Having a problem, ol' buddy?" He asked with an innocent tone.

"Who is _that_?" Iceland struggled to mutter as he clutched the flowers tightly.

"Why, a tourist of course!" He chuckled. "You silly boy."

"No, I mean the girl." He muttered as he saw her come closer. She was happily dragging her large suitcase along, not even stopping to check where she was going. She looked surprisingly nice for someone who had just gotten out of the plane. Iceland shot him a glare and tried not to look at Belgium. "…You planned this." He snarled angrily.

"I could never plan something so freakin' hilarious even if I tried. You should see the look on your face!" He laughed, tumbling over and falling over to the floor with laughter.

Iceland picked him up and scowled. "When did you plan this? How did you get her here?"

"I just sent the letter!" He answered cheerfully. "You weren't gonna send it yourself, so I did it for you. You should thank me."

"Wait, which letter?" He asked in confusion.

"The one I wrote myself. It's sad when a bird can write better than a human." He gloated. "You should go talk to her." He added. "Put the moves on her. You know. Be _smooth_. Likebutter."

He shook his head and started to blush. "Is this why you gave me these dumb flowers?"

"…Aw, someone has a crus-" Before he could finish, Iceland hid him behind a potted plant and turned around to see Belgium standing a few steps away.

"Um…hello?" She asked in a low tone. She smiled brightly and waved. "Iceland?" She smiled and gave him a swift hug before noticing what he had in his hand. "Are those red poppies? Those are my favorite!"

Still a bit shaken by the sudden hug, he nodded. "There seems to be misunderstanding."

Belgium's smile faded and worry clouded her eyes. "…Huh? These…aren't for me..?"

He shook his head quickly and sighed. "Yes, these are for you but…"

"But?" She asked in confusion.

"I …I didn't write the letter." "It was my puffin."

"Um, alright. And?" She figured it must have been an inside joke or something, so she smiled and tried to go along with it.

"Well, I didn't invite you." He responded bluntly.

"…So…I can't stay..? I came here for nothing?" She asked with teary eyes. "I…"

Iceland panicked and tried to calm her down. "No! No, no…I uh…If you want you can still stay."

"Nice save, Casanova." Mr. Puffin snickered.

"Shut up." He growled. "This had nothing to do with you."

"I'm still here…" Belgium muttered shyly.

"I know; I'm just discussing something with my bird." He said before realizing how senseless that made him sound. He turned back to Mr. Puffin and sighed. "What did you tell her?"

"That you had a room for her and you were gonna take her around town. Maybe stop at the hot springs…" He answered casually.

"You have no idea how much I hate you right now." Iceland grumbled.

"C'mon. At the hot springs, you can sneak a peek at her a-" He stopped when he saw Iceland's reaction and snickered.

He looked down and frowned, trying to hold back a small smile. "I don't want to…"

"Ah, a gentleman…" Mr. Puffin muttered. "How admirable. Where'd ya learn to be a gentleman? Or maybe you're just acting like a gentleman so you can get into her pants. And that's a freakin' great plan! I mean, I should know. I'm a ladies' puffin."

"Just tell me exactly what you promised her in that letter!" He shouted angrily.

"That's pretty much it. A trip and a room." He responded. It didn't sound as bad as Iceland pictured it. He could manage to do that. Even if it killed him inside.

He took a deep breath and turned around to face her. "You can stay with us…"

"That's great! Thanks so much, Iceland!" She was going to hug him, but he took a few steps back before she could. Breezes passed by and made her shiver, causing her to make a small giggle. "Kinda chilly, isn't it?"

Iceland raised an eyebrow and looked at the sky. He had completely forgotten it was winter. "Take my jacket." He muttered as he took it off. "It might snow."

Mr. Puffin perched himself atop Iceland's head and ruffled his feathers. "Well, well. Aren't you gonna introduce me to your little girlfriend?" He teased.

The comment caught him off guard and made him flustered, causing him to drop the jacket before he could place it around her. "She's not." Iceland protested quickly.

Belgium sighed and picked up the jacket and tried to ignore the bird's comment. "Oh, I don't believe we've met! I'm Belgium." She laughed as she put it on. It was warm and pleasant, exactly as she remembered it.

Iceland facepalmed and gestured towards Mr. Puffin. "This is my puffin." He sighed.

"That's _Mr_. Puffin to you!" Mr. Puffin shouted over to him. "But the ladies call me Puff. You can call me Puff." He added as before he nuzzled Belgium, making Iceland grit his teeth.

"Aw, how adorable! You didn't tell me you had a pet." Belgium answered with a smile. "He's such a cutie."

"He's more of a pest." He growled as he glared at Mr. Puffin.

"Hey, hey. Respect the endangered species." Mr. Puffin protested.

"You're not endangered. Stop being so dramatic."

"Yeah, but the way you look at me makes me think you want to cook some puffin stew… You wouldn't eat your best friend, would ya?" He asked in a dramatic tone, probably copied from an actor. Iceland shook his head in condemnation and continued walking. Belgium followed closely, trying to match his pace.

"So, how long until we get to your house?" She asked gleefully with her luggage in tow.

"A while." He answered with a shrug.

Belgium nodded and took a deep breath. "…Can we at least talk?"

He raised an eyebrow and looked away nonchalantly. "About?"

She thought for a minutes and looked towards what he was looking. They didn't really have much to talk about. She knew she couldn't talk about anything concerning the jacket or their little talk at the park, since Mr. Puffin would find a way to interrupt the moment. "The EU?" She asked in a low voice.

"I don't feel like talking about anything." He answered stoically before Mr. Puffin ruffled his feathers again.

"You two make an adorable couple. Almost as adorable as myself!" Mr. Puffin teased. "Aren't you gonna kiss?"

Belgium giggled at the comment, but Iceland started to walk faster and mutter some things she couldn't understand. She picked up the pace to try and match his to hear him better.

"Um, about the Union…" She started to say before he quickened his pace even more. It seemed the more she approached him, the farther he got from her. Finally, she just sighed and stopped. He started to slow down and extended his arm for Mr. Puffin to perch himself, but didn't make eye contact with her. Still, he let her walk next to him while Mr. Puffin was giggling like an idiot.

There were moments when she looked over to him only to find him looking at something else, causing her to lower her head and quicken her pace. At times she's try to strike up conversation again, but she kept getting one word answers and awkward silences. He didn't even look at her, most of the time he kept looking ahead with an expressionless look on his face. He was so cold after the comment. She checked her hair to see if it was messy and her teeth to see if she had something stuck. When nothing came up, she wondered if she had said something wrong, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe he just hated the idea of them as a couple. She wasn't _that_ bad, was she? He was obviously joking. The rest of the walk was quiet, with her sneaking a few looks every few steps.


	9. It's Just A Feeling

**Author's Note:** Yeah! We're back on track! For now. I'm finally back, and I also got some time to work on other stories. Not too sure how long this peace will last, though. Sorry to keep you waiting! Thank you for the reviews~! (Also, congratulations, Singapore! Beat out UK and Russia for the most visitors. Oh, and hi to the new Romanian and Mexican! Los amo.) Without further ado:

* * *

After what felt like hours like walking, they finally made it to his house. It was smaller than she pictured it, but it seemed homely. Mr. Puffin flew over to the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge. Iceland looked like he was going to comment on it, but he stopped himself and sighed. He then took her to a back room and opened the door. She was surprised to hear his voice after such a long period of silence.

"This is the only guest room." He muttered. "If you want, I can try cleaning it tomorrow. It's really dusty."

"Don't worry, I'm not one of those princess types. I understand." She giggled. "Thanks again!" She exclaimed before going in.

There wasn't much in the room; there was a small bed, a desk and a chair. She wasn't expecting anything fancy anyways. The bed looked as it had gone untouched for decades, and the desk looked to be covered in dust and spider webs. The only thing that stood out was a small picture frame on the desk. Even though it was surrounded by dirt and dust bunnies, it remained unscathed by them.

"What's that?" She asked curiously. "That frame on the desk?"

"…It's just an old picture." He replied stoically, not giving it much importance.

"Why does it look so new, then? Are these the other Nordics?" She asked as she picked it up. She started to smile as she looked at it. Finland and Sweden were hugging, but it looked like Finland was running out of breath and Sweden was about to kill someone. On the other side of the picture, Denmark was laughing and spilling beer everywhere. At the very center, Norway stood with an expressionless look on his face. It has some words written at the bottom, but she couldn't make out what they said. She figured they must be their signatures, since there were exactly four of them.

"It was a gift from them." He answered before taking a deep breath. "I wish they didn't get me anything."

"Aw, was this a gift? How sweet! " She commented. "It's kind of creepy, though…" She added.

"I know. Norway gave it to me a couple of years ago. I don't like looking at it." He answered.

"Well, it could be worse…" She murmured.

"I don't see how." He said as he stepped back towards the door.

Belgium giggled and put her suitcase on the bed. She found it amusing how he seemed to have a strong dislike for his own brother. Sure his brother was cold but at least Norway was _trying _to show he cared. In his own special way. It reminded her of her own brother, who had his own way of dealing with things. His way often involved eavesdropping and phone tapping.

"I think Denmark is the only one who wanted to be there." She laughed. "He looks so excited."

"Yeah." He answered in a low voice.

"…It's not horrible…I guess his staring can get to you eventually though…" She said before trailing off. "Why don't you just move the picture or send it back?" She suggested.

"…I've tried. It comes back." He replied in his usual deadpan tone.

The atmosphere slowly started to feel alien, but Belgium couldn't pinpoint what it was. "You don't _really_ think it's cursed, do you?" She asked playfully. Iceland only blinked and stared at the picture. Soon enough, she found herself staring at the picture as well. It was almost as if it was commanding attention. Norway's eyes seemed to glow and a dark aura started to form around him. Denmark, Sweden and Finland slowly started to disappear as Norway started to become the central figure in the frame.

"How long are you staying?" Iceland asked suddenly to change the subject. The comment startled Belgium, and she took another look at the picture to check if it was still the same. It looked…normal. Maybe she was just jetlagged and seeing things.

"About a week." She answered cheerfully, still keeping her eye on the picture in case it changed again. "Unless that's too much trouble!" She added as she came closer. "I don't mind if you have stuff to do…and…"

"No, no! It's okay." He explained quickly. "I'm just going to leave you to do your…girl things._"_

Belgium sighed and started to unpack her things. She could still feel Norway's eyes on her, making her nervous. She really needed some rest. Maybe a shower would do her good, too. The suitcase was filled with a plethora of outfits, carefully color coordinated and folded along with accessories. France really had an eye for fashion…if only any of the fashion was warm. There was a pea coat at the bottom of the suitcase, and it seemed it was the warmest thing in there. She'd have to ask Iceland if she could borrow his jacket once again. At this point, it was better to just buy one and not bother him so much. She didn't want to bother him with her "girl things." Did he mean change clothing? Or do her hair? Maybe he left it ambiguous on purpose. She sighed again and picked out an outfit. It wasn't the warmest, but it would have to do. A warm shower would probably make her feel better.

Meanwhile, Iceland was walking towards his room, hoping to get some paperwork done before the end of the day. As soon as he opened the door, he found Mr. Puffin near it and shaking his head.

"Girl things?" He chuckled. "Really, Icey. _Really_? I thought you were better than that."

"What did you want me to say?" He asked as he sat down. "Did you want me to talk about the weather?

"Anything except freakin' girl things!" He shouted. "Even freakin' sheep would have been an improvement!"

Iceland put his hand over his beak and placed him on the desk gently. "Would you quiet down?" He whispered.

"What? Now you care what she thinks?" Mr. Puffin teased. "I think you have butterflies in your stomach, and they're showing!"

"No, it's not that…I…" He struggled to explain. He could almost feel his blood rushing to his cheek. He hated it, but he has not control over it. "It's nothing like that..."

"Then what is it?" Mr. Puffin asked accusingly. "What is this red stuff on your cheeks, then? Ah? Ah? Don't tell me it's a condition! The only condition you suffer from is lovesickness!"

"It's nothing, alright? Maybe I just don't enjoy having you screaming near my ear." He protested. "And what do you know, you're a talking bird!"

"Or. Or! Maybe you're really happy that she's staying for the entire week and are afraid of emotions!" "I saw this on a show once. You gotta come out of your shell and embrace affection!"

"…I should really stop paying for Internet connection." Iceland grumbled to himself.

"No! Then how will I find out if Sandra dies after her kidney transplant?" Mr. Puffin cried. "It's the most important episode of the season! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME."

"You don't." He replied stoically. "It's just a show, get over it."

"Gasp! _You_ are just a show! I still don't see what she sees in you!" Mr. Puffin whined. "Whatever it is, it must be invisible!"

"She doesn't see anything in me, Mr. Puffin." He sighed sadly, almost as if he was disappointed.

"Are you freakin' kidding me? Did you see the way she looked at you at the airport? Or that look in her eyes when she saw the flowers in your hands? Or how sad she got when she thought she had to leave? She gave you the 'Oh dear God, I hope he doesn't hate me because I think he's kind of cute.' look." He explained. "You two like each other, I can tell."

"There was nothing special." He sighed as he shuffled through some papers on his desk and started to read them. He felt tempted to swat Mr. Puffin away with a paper, but that would probably make him even more annoying. The papers were barely a distraction, anyways. His desk was filled with bills that kept piling up and strongly worded letters from England asking why he hadn't paid them yet. Might as well put them to good use. "And that look you described isn't even a look." He added.

"She was pretty much ogling you, and you were just ignoring her." Mr. Puffin stated in a serious tone.

He stopped shuffling papers for a second and turned to him. "Ogling me?"

Mr. Puffin's nodded and flew over next to him. "You know, checking out the merchandise." He whispered in a low and sly tone.

"…and I'm the merchandise?" He asked in disbelief. He didn't _think_ he was special. Maybe Belgium was naturally flirty. Or perhaps Mr. Puffin was just playing with his head. He thought about it for a moment, but the scenario just wouldn't work out in his head. They were worlds apart. Any attempt at a relationship would fall apart in less than a month.

"To her, at least. Personally, I don't see the appeal. You're kinda on the short side and you always wear the same clothes." He responded. "I mean would it ki- Oh." He stopped talking as soon as he saw Iceland suddenly quiet down and stare at the desk. "You're thinking about it, aren't you? About being the merchandise."

"I don't even understand wh-" He muttered before being interrupted by Mr. Puffin.

"Face it, Icy. You _want_ her." Mr. Puffin growled as he flew in front of him. "You want to do those things that couples do on TV. You want to hug, kiss and cuddle...And let's both face this. You really are in need of a cuddle. And I ain't giving you one. Mostly because I lack arms."

"I don't want anything. Especially from her." He protested. "I'm just doing this because you dragged me into it."

"Oh, c'mon! You make it so freakin' obvious! With your blushing and short answers…And then you let her into your house. The last human that came in here was…" There was a short silence while Mr. Puffin thought about the answer. "Um…I think they're dead. I'm just glad this girl is sane!"

"I don't like her. She's too…perky and happy all the time." Iceland lied. He actually kind of _liked_ her perkiness. Sometimes. Other times it just annoyed him.

"Wow, you are the only guy in the entire world who would not enjoy a perky girl. Think of all the funtimes." Mr. Puffin chuckled darkly.

A little put-off by his chuckle, he spent a few minuted to think of a response. "Funtimes?" He asked. It was a sad excuse for a response, but it was the best he could do.

"WINK. WINK." The sound effects weren't even necessary. Mr. Puffin was making his intentions obvious.

Iceland raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Right…_Funtime_s…" He repeated, dragging out the word to try and understand why he would bring _it_ up.

"_Super_ funtimes." Mr. Puffin sang. "You know what I mean, Ice. Don't act all oblivious."

He was correct on the first statement. He _did_ know what he meant. Even though he didn't want to. He was wrong in the second one, though. He wasn't acting oblivious. He was just having trouble fathoming the concept. He barely wanted a relationship, let alone a physical one. "Just leave." He sighed.

"No…you might sneak out in the middle of the night to see her. And I can't miss that." Mr. Puffin teased. "Probably to cuddle and write emo poetry."

"…I'm not seeing anyone." Iceland denied. "And even if I was, why would I sneak out to see them in the middle of the night."

"Sure, sure. But you should, is what I'm saying." Mr. Puffin explained. "Do it. Not just for me. But for the brennivin, the licorice, the sheep and_ yourself_."

"Why does it matter to you if I'm alone or not?" Iceland asked angrily. He was ready to end the argument hours before it started, but Mr. Puffin would just not _let it go_.

"Because I have to wait until next week to see if Sandra survives and she can live happily with Pedro! I want at least one relationship to work out!" He cried out. "And you guys go together like salt and herring!"

"We're not going to be together." He sighed in an exasperated tone. "We are nothing alike. She's only here for a few days, and then she'll be gone for good."

Iceland expected Mr. Puffin to complain even more, but the bird seemed to take his statement as a challenge. "Willing to bet?" He asked teasingly. Iceland was about to react, but was caught off guard by his shouting and couldn't respond in time. "TOO LATE. I HAVE A PLAN. A FREAKIN' GOOD ONE, TOO!" He sang before flying out the window, only leaving a few feathers behind.

He turned around and managed to mutter a faint "to what?" before he realized he had flown away. It was too late, he was already gone. He was probably halfway across town at this point, and there was no way he could catch up to him on foot. He finally had his peace and quiet, but for some reason it wasn't as comforting as he had pictured it. The silence allowed him to hear Belgium's footsteps across the hall. It made him nervous to know she was in his house. She would probably snoop around and stick her nose in things that didn't have anything to do with her. He could hear her opening some doors and quickly closing them, and he knew that soon she was going to burst through his door and ask him for directions to the bathroom.

He stared at his door and waited for her to open it. Minutes passed but nothing happened. It seemed she had already found it on her own. He shrugged and kept looking out the window, but he kept thinking of his conversation with Mr. Puffin. Maybe he was a little bit right. Maybe he _did_ need a cuddle. Maybe he did want someone to come in and talk to him. Maybe he did need someone. Perhaps that's why he was staring at the door again, hoping she needed his help with something trivial like opening a jar or killing a small spider. He wanted to feel needed.


	10. It's Not Heartburn

**Author's Note:** Well, it's best to come clean right now. I am not good with schedules. My life is pretty messed up right now, for reasons I'd rather not get into, but this will start updating once a week from now on. I'm bummed too, but I can't find inspiration like before. (Give me prompts, if you'd like.) I'm also a bit paranoid about the quality of this work, so I'll be revamping previous chapters a bit after I return from a 7 week (forced) vacation. You'll most likely get a nice update on Sunday (Not tomorrow, next Sunday). Still, I love you all and I love reading your reviews. YOU guys are amazing, not the fic.

* * *

Staring outside the window was an easy way to find a quick distraction. Perhaps not a very entertaining distraction, but watching the wind rustle the trees and bushes was much easier than trying to have a conversation with Belgium. He wasn't sure what to think anymore. A strange feeling in his gut told him to just stay where he was, but an even stranger feeling in his chest made him want to go talk to her. He thought about every possible situation that could have caused it. Fatigue, stomachache, heartburn...and the other option. He didn't even want to _consider_ the last option, so he just ruled it out as heartburn. Even if he hadn't eaten anything to cause it. Truthfully, he found the last option to be very frighting for various reasons. If it were to be true, it would mean he somehow developed feelings for someone he barely even knew. Someone who had tackled him in a public place just to prove a point. But she was also someone who had manage to have a conversation with him that was longer than the usual "Hello" and "Yeah. Good to see ya too." He wasn't a child anymore, he wasn't supposed to get crushes or get flustered over the mere thought of it.

Sighing, he got up and walked over to the living room to sit on the couch. He could hear Belgium singing in the shower, but ignored it as he picked up a random book on bird migration patterns he didn't even remember purchasing. Even if he didn't ignore it, he didn't understand what she was singing about anyways. She was probably singing something in Dutch or French. The book proved to be a good enough distraction to keep him entertained for a few minutes before she came out in clothing that was definitely not well suited for the local weather.

He kept his eyes glued to the book, but lowered it down when he realized she was coming. "I need to talk to you abou-" He started to say before he got a good look at her. His own mind started to imitate Mr. Puffin's teasing tone, almost as if the bird was still next to him. _"Super funtimes, super funtimes."_ He didn't even get why his mind strayed to that thought immediately. It's not like a red t-shirt and shorts warranted_ that_ much attention.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked with a cheerful tone before sitting down next to him.

Mr. Puffin's voice echoed louder and louder, messing up his thought process. "About volcanoes." He replied, completely forgetting what he originally wanted to say.

Her smile faded and was replaced with a befuddled look. "…Volcanoes?" She asked in confusion.

"Yes, would you like to take a tour of the island?" He said, trying to make it sound as natural as possible.

"I'd love to!" She shouted in glee.

"…Good…" Iceland muttered, his ears still ringing from the shout.

"I'm sorry, is something wrong?"

"No, I was just thinking." He lied. "Not about you, though."

Belgium nodded slowly and smiled. "About?"

"…Hot…" He started to say before his eyes started to trail off elsewhere. He caught his breath before saying something silly and forced an extremely awkward smile. "…springs." He finished in a weak effort to not sound stupid.

"Hot springs? Oh, I'd love to go! She sang. "If we can, of course."

"We can go tomorrow." He sighed as he turned his head away. "I guess that's what we'll do for the next few days. It's not like there's a lot to do inside the house, really..." A short silence followed, but was interrupted by Belgium.

"Do you want the jacket back?" She asked in an attempt to get him talking again.

"You can keep it if you want." He said quickly.

"If you need it back, it's alright with me. I have a coat." She said. "I don't want you to get cold. I can go get it right now." She added sweetly.

"I have a lot of them." He answered. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Alright..."

Minutes passed without a sound. Belgium looked over to him a few times, only to find him staring at a nearby lamp. The silence was starting to turn agonizing, but she didn't know how to end it without making him uncomfortable. She got closer to him, but he turned his attention to the fridge. He must have been avoiding eye-contact. She bit her lip and leaned forward, picking her words carefully.

"Soooooo…Your puffin is quite the talker…" She said shyly. Iceland turned around quickly, and Belgium's smile returned. "He said some pretty interesting things, no?" She chuckled.

He turned away again and sighed. "Ignore him."

"Soooo…" She started to say again before he got up.

"Do you want something to eat?" He asked as he opened the fridge.

"Don't worry; I ate before I came here." She said. Secretly, Iceland was relieved. He didn't have a lot of food in his fridge anyways. Just some licorice, some leftover food from the previous week, a few cans of coke and bottles upon bottles of brennivin.

"…So, did you enjoy the shower?" He asked before starting to look inside the fridge.

Belgium smiled and nodded. "Yes, I did. It was kind of cold, though. I should have asked you about that."

He seemed to ignore her answer as he pulled out two cans of coke. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yes, please."

"Here." He muttered as he gave her the drink and sat down next to her to drink his own.

"So…do you have a girlfriend..?" She asked casually.

The question made him almost spit out his drink and choke, but he was able to control himself enough to swallow before he put the drink down. "What!" He shouted, obviously very startled by the fact she would even ask that sort of question.

"I'm sorry, that was a personal question and I shouldn't have asked it!" She exclaimed to get him to calm down. "Really sorry!"

"No, it's fine." He said in low voice.

"So…you do. It's that Seychelles girl isn't it?" Belgium accused. "I knew it meant something when she said she was visiting other islands..."

Iceland shook his head. "No, I don't have a girlfriend. And…who's she?"

"Ah? She's uh…a person." Belgium said with a smile, trying to hide her mistake. "And how can you not have a girlfriend? A guy that's so ha-" Before she could finish the sentence, she realized what she almost said and stopped talking.

"I'm ha?" He asked, expecting her to elaborate.

"It's Dutch." She lied.

"Dutch for what?" He asked, making Belgium think of a million possible scenarios where her answer made a little bit of sense.

"…Intelligent." She lied again.

"Thanks, I guess…" Iceland said, not giving it much importance.

"So, any exes?" She asked, trying to get him to talk more about it, only to cause him to stare at the floor. "So that's a no…It's nothing to worry about. Plenty of people don't date others!"

"Yeah." He muttered now slightly peeved.

"Are you honestly saying you've never dated anyone? I expected that you…you know." She said with a small smile.

"I know what?"

"That you would have had some girlfriends…or boyfriends, I don't judge."

"Why did you expect that?" He grunted. "Because I'm ha?"

"Yes, you're very ha." She laughed.

"It doesn't really mean 'intelligent', does it?" He asked with a serious face.

"It does!" She exclaimed defensively before realizing he wasn't buying it at all. "Okay, maybe it doesn't..."

"Then what does it mean? Cold? Withdrawn?" He asked, expecting it to be some form of insult or a synonym for anti-social.

"I actually meant to say that you were handsome…" She explained in a low voice. "Not movie-star handsome, but still."

The comment left him speechless, and he only uttered a short "oh" before Belgium felt the need to poke him so he didn't shut down completely.

"Does it bother you that I find you handsome?" She asked, not even noticing how close they had gotten at that point.

"No, it's fine. You're handsome too." He said quickly to try and end the subject.

"…Did you just call me handsome? I'm a girl, Iceland." She giggled.

"Girls can be handsome." He countered quickly, causing her to giggle some more. "Fine, you're very pretty." He said before sighing.

"Oh. You think I'm not just pretty, but _very_ pretty?" She teased. "Why thank you!"

"No, it's just that as an acquaintance…" He started to explain. "We don't even know each other and..."

"Acquaintance?" She repeated to make sense of what was happening. "So we're not even _friends_? Why am I at your house then? Do you just let random strangers in your house..?"

"Can we change the subject?" He pleaded to end the conversation once and for all.

"Just when it's getting interesting?" She asked with a pout. Admittedly, he found it annoying at first, but after a few seconds of staring at her, she started to look more adorable than anything.

"I don't want to talk about it." He grumbled.

"You never want to talk about anything!" Belgium protested.

"How about the EU?" He suggested. Literally anything was better than the previous subject.

Belgium's eyes brightened and her voice became sweeter to the point that it would be nauseating for anyone who saw the scene without proper context. "Interested?"

He muttered a low "kinda" before scooting away from her.

"…Should I take that as a yes?" Belgium asked, getting closer and closer.

"A maybe." He said as he started to become slightly uncomfortable with her proximity.

"A maybe that could be a yes?" She asked, slowly starting to morph her signature cat smile.

"That could also be a no." He answered, trying to mask his nervousness behind a stoic facade.

"...You'll come around." She sang happily. "I know you will."

Iceland slowly realized that the conversation was not just about the EU. Her tone was starting to delve into actual _flirting_ for a conversation that was supposed to just be _'_between friends.' "What makes you think that?" He asked quickly, trying to make sure his suspicions were correct.

She looked at the floor for a few seconds before smiling lightly. "Your eyes." She whispered before looking over to him. "You have beautiful eyes. You know that, right?" She added as she got closer to his face, making him panic and causing him to almost fall off the couch.

"I just remembered I haven't taken a shower!" He said quickly before making a mad dash to the bathroom. She leaned back and sighed, wondering how to get through with him without ruining everything. A loud thud could be heard as he shut the door behind him, followed by frantic shuffling to open it again to get his clothing. It was a funny sight that made her smile, but she wished he'd stop being so paranoid and opened up a bit. _"One of these days he'll come around."_ Belgium thought to herself before closing her eyes and falling asleep again.


	11. I'm a Lady

Sitting on the couch was a time-wasting activity. Belgium was close to her tipping point; there was nothing of entertainment that could possibly command her attention enough to keep her mind off of things. There were books, many books. Small ones, big ones, thick and thin, old and fairly new. None of them were useful to cure her boredom, the interesting ones were in Icelandic and the ones in English were lackluster.

Time dragged along far too slowly for her. It was like being stuck at an infinite grocery line where the person in front of you kept insisting that their coupons expire on the 17th, not the 7th. How much time could it possibly take for him to get dressed? It's not as if he had to fix his hair. He most likely didn't even own a comb. The anxiousness was making her tap her fingers impatiently on the couch.

She could hear the door slowly creak open then shut again. He probably just forgot something. Or maybe he was avoiding her in particular. She didn't blame him, maybe she did come off as a bit…up front. He must have thought of her as too outspoken, too candid. Eventually he'd have to stop avoiding her, though.

It's not like he could lock himself in the room and eat soap and pants for the entire time she was staying.

Then she started to calculate how long a man could subsist purely on a pair of pants. Not too long if they weren't leather. Pants aren't exactly the best source of protein, neither are bars of soap. The boy couldn't last a day in there, much less a week.

He would sit down next to her at any moment…

Any moment…

Or maybe the next one…

Preferably not the next one after that, preferably at the very moment she pondered his location…

In her effort to learn the virtue of patience, her mind strayed to other thoughts. The words he said, the suspicious avoidance of questions. His defiance made her more and more tempted to insist.

She was the determined type; it was Iceland's own fault for being so challenging. If he were more of an easy target, she would have lost interest. Trying to conquer him was similar to trying to bring a horse to water, only it felt more like trying to drag a stubborn mule to a river. A mule who carried cold hard bricks and had iron weighs tied to his legs. Even if she was able to summon the strength to pull him near the riverbank, there was no guarantee he would drink. He would most likely just stare at the river. _Maybe_ he would try and go along with it for a while, dipping the very tip of his tongue in the water to try and get her to stop bothering him. Then, he would proceed to shrug and run away, leaving Belgium with rope burns and an empty stable.

She could tend to her rope burns, but she absolutely _refused _to be left with an empty stable.

Oh yes, he was a tough one. She knew that from the beginning, it's why she took interest in the first place. Belgium knew that he wouldn't come out his shell so easily. What she _didn't _know was the sheer extent of his hard-headedness.

Maybe she was just too idealistic. Maybe she was chasing after someone who simply gave up running a long time ago.

It started out as a passing interest, but she had slowly taken a liking to the boy. Sure, he was stubborn, temperamental, easily-agitated, and always had a faint smell of brennivin, but deep down, he was warm and fuzzy (still smelt like brennivin, though). She had seen that side of him a few times before, but he always seemed to fall back to the status quo when she started to get more comfortable around him.

Perhaps that was _why_ she had started to feel attraction to him. Under that glacier exterior was a good man. A man with a tendency to do stupid things for trivial reasons. He was warm, he was sweet, and he had plenty of potential. Now, if only he _showed_ it. He just needed to open up a little is all? That was the question. Under no circumstances could she outright _force_ him to drink from the river.

Even if she tried, it would feel wrong. No, she needed to win him over. _Somehow. _

It would all be worth it in the end…after all, aren't all diamonds born from chunks of charcoal? Well, after they're exposed to outrageously high amounts of heat. Even then, diamonds forged in a controlled setting are incredibly less valuable than their natural counterparts. Perhaps that was the trick…patience. She needed to just let him expose himself to outrageous amounts of heat.

Actually, no. That was a terrible idea. Sure, there were volcanoes everywhere, but she didn't want to actively _encourage_ him to jump into one.

What she needed to do was wait for him to calm down and rethink it all. Slowly let the idea sink in.

Her.

Him.

_Together._

Alcohol optional.

It was something easier said than done.

She couldn't help but feel that she was forgetting something…The main reason she was there. The EU proposal.

There she had gone and fallen for the guy she was supposed to invite to the EU. Now she remembered why England was so against sending her. Not that it mattered much, pretty much everyone in Europe learnt to do the opposite of what England said a long time ago. Still, his words rang in her head: _"Belgium, stop getting into things that don't concern you!"_

But it DID concern her. Everything did.

She couldn't really help it. It was her personality. She just _needed_ to prove people wrong. It was her primary drive in life, her main goal. She was the type of woman who when told she's going to need treatment for some incurable disease goes out and jogs for a bit. Later on in the week, the disease would be gone.

_Out of pure determination._

Or naïveté.

Most likely naïveté masquerading as willpower and resolve to get free grilled cheese on Macho Monday at Spain's Café.

This combination of naïveté and determination was a ticking time bomb just waiting to blow. One day, she was going to find a mountain she could not climb, a river she could not cross, an ideal she could not support. Was Iceland the guy who could simply not be conquered?

His voice suddenly pulled her out of deep thought.

"…What are you looking at?" He questioned from the other side of the room. He seemed to be mildly agitated.

Obviously, Iceland was the guy who got annoyed when people kept asking rhetorical questions about him in their mind. The grumpy mountain that didn't want to go to work in the morning without his drink. The idea of him simply being a river sounded more appealing.

She had forgotten he had been sitting there for the past few minutes. Retrospectively, he _was_ sitting in a dark corner of the room. It would be a good idea to install some windows nearby to let the light in. Otherwise, it just looked like he came out of nowhere… had he been sitting there the entire time? Belgium got worried and started looking around.

"Are you alright, Belgium?" His voice seemed to show hints of worry, but they were well-hidden by his cold expression.

"_Oh no, he's been here the entire time. Act natural!"_ Her inner thoughts screamed. Unfortunately, no human being had ever managed to "act natural" correctly; they always ended up acting "like a complete sociopath who keeps smiling at the asker for scary reasons."

Belgium cocked her head sideways and used her trademark cat-like smile. "I'm perfectly, fine. I was just thinking about something." She laughed, intentionally trying to sound as sweet as possible.

Ah, sweetness. A woman's hidden weapon. It has been used since the beginning of the human race, since the first time that Oog, the first caveman, met Oogie, his best friend's half-sister. Their courting was an amusing one. Oog would act strong and stoic in contrast to his woman. There was no need for it, as Oogie was perfectly capable of stabbing an animal to death too. Oogie was a clever cavegirl; she used Oog's obliviousness to her advantage. Oogie would act innocent to distract Oog from all the stupid things she did. Such as hoarding saber-toothed lion pelts and snake-skin shoes. Poor Oog never noticed until after they were both middle-aged with seven bratty cavechildren.

Who would have thought the sickingly sweet façade (and the gender stereotypes!) would transcend cultural boundaries? Not Oog, that's for sure. Mostly because Oog had a small brain capacity in comparison to modern humans. Still, _who would have thought?_

She kept her smile up for a while, playfully twirling her hair to add to the effect. Sooner or later he would _have_ to look away. _Even if it was to get rid of bile_, she needed him to look away.

"About what?" He asked, looking somewhat nervous.

"Girl type things." She sang. "I don't really expect you to talk about it with me, I understand."

The answer made him incredibly flustered for some reason. "Oh." He muttered before picking up a book and sinking himself in it.

Did he really think she was going to fall for that? He was holding a book about "Puffin Mating". There was no one on the planet that could be_ that_ interested in puffin mating. Not puffin scientists, not puffin enthusiasts…not even _actual puffins._

Aside from that, he was holding the book upside-down. That was a contributing factor to his demise.

"I didn't know he could read backwards…" She giggled in a low voice before returning to her previous thoughts and fantasies.

The boy stared at her dumbfounded. Her playful expression made him feel an anxious know in his stomach; he got suspicious quite quickly. He looked at his book again, then at her. His gaze jumped between the two, trying to find a possible connection. "What?" He asked, keeping his voice as low and serious as he could.

"You're holding the book upside down, silly." She explained.

Iceland's eyes quickly darted to the book in his hands. Sure enough, the letters looked as if they were dancing the horizontal samba on the ceiling. They both were aware about how flustered he was getting at this point. He needed to cover his error somehow, a good excuse to distract her would be his saving grace…What excuse could be feasible (and smooth) enough to detract from his glaring idiocy? "I was just looking at the pictures." He muttered as he turned it around and tried to cover his face with it in embarrassment. "They're very detailed."

Evidently, Iceland is not known for being smooth.

Belgium giggled louder. This was one of two things: Either the most adorable thing she had ever seen, or the stupidest.

The most adorable thing she had ever seen was an orange tabby trying to open a tomato can with its tiny kitty paws. (He couldn't do it.)

The stupidest was the time that Prussia tried to convince her that he could shove a pencil up his nose and not bleed. (He couldn't do it either.)

Adorable or stupid…she had trouble deciding what it was. Then she made a decision: It was the most stupidly adorable thing she had ever seen.

He himself was stupidly adorable to her, not in spite of his attitude, perhaps _due_ to it. The faint smell of brennivin and warm hugs may have had something to do with the attraction too.

But…was it mutual?

Belgium had considered the idea before. He obviously had at least a crush on her, but was it enough to form the basis of a relationship? If the mere thought of her made his cheeks turn to a rosy pink, was that enough? Or was it something more…Something more than mere infatuation.

She hesitated to comment on his excuse. She did _want _to say something. A snappy one-liner, a cute flirtatious phrase, a quirky word or two to keep him on his toes…but words failed her at the moment. Now she was _very_ interested to know what was going on in his head. From the looks of his face, most of his focus was on nervous thought processing. The rest of his intellectual prowess was directed at trying to control his facial blood flow. (Everyone is well aware how _that_ went for him.)

Suddenly she remembered why she had been single for the past few years in the first place. People were complicated. Unlike her, most people tended to not carry their heart on their sleeve. Some were more cautious about their feelings, more…careful about the subject of emotions. For the life of her, she didn't know why. Without an action there is no reaction, she figured. Someone had to make the first move. Preferably him, but by the looks of him, that wasn't happening any day soon. She had to take emotional matters into her own hands.

Without a second thought, she off-handedly popped the question that she knew had to be asked sooner or later.

"Hey, Iceland…do you like me?"


End file.
